The Beloved
by gemathyst
Summary: The 'Rainbow Valley' children's hopes, grieves, passions, fears, agonies, romances and growths during the dark years of the Great War. [Jem,Faith,Walter,Jerry,Nan,Di]
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1 – Old Friends_

Ingleside's garret was always a delightful place to cuddle up in and dream, with rays of sunshine through the big windows mingling with friendly little shadows peeking out from corners and behind the big, soft armchairs. When the manse and Ingleside clans had ceased going to Rainbow Valley, they had implanted themselves in the garret, and much laughter was heard drifting down the stairs to the kitchen where Susan Baker reigned supreme and smiled fondly at the joyous sounds.

It overlooked both the sun-dappled Rainbow Valley and the gleaming blue harbour beyond and was, to quote Nan Blythe, "the sweetest place in Ingleside." In one corner there was the museum of curios that Captain Jim Boyd had bequeathed to Jem when he died, and there was no end of cushions for those who had to sit on the floor. Mrs. Blythe had authorized the consumption of food, and after being mildly rebuked for leaving crumbs behind, the occupants had learned how to clean up after themselves.

Right now the occupants were four girls, all young and fresh with girlish hopes, expectations and ambitions…among them, the famous Blythe twins: the first, red-headed Diana Blythe, otherwise known as Di, seated on a large cushion and helping herself to chestnuts as she talked. She was a very clever, sensible girl, and, although she was not as pretty as Nan, she was nonetheless very attractive with her milky skin, clear green eyes, and exquisite charm. Nan Blythe, at eighteen, was one of the prettiest girls in the Glen with her smooth nut-brown hair and, beneath pointed brows, demure glancing brown eyes that played havoc with the hearts of hopeful suitors. Yet, for all her popularity with the men and gossip mongers, Nan was not quite as popular with the girls. Her way of carrying herself with her head held high gave way to rumours of her having "airs" and walking around with "a nose that practically _snubbed _you."

The other two girls were the equally famous minister's daughters, the elder of whom was Faith Meredith, lounging in a huge chair that seemed to swallow her up. The headstrong, free-willed girl who had once scandalized the Glen with her misadventures had blossomed into an energetic, delightful young woman who was the pride of the community. She carried off to perfection all the advantages that youth and Nature could bestow, being a vividly beautiful girl with the wittiness, charm and glamour of all the Glen girls combined. Startling confidence took the place of either airs or vanity, and Faith was as much of a social leader in Redmond College as in little Glen St. Mary.

'Little' Una Meredith was quite the opposite. Her black hair, as straight as ever, lay in strict disobedience of the latest fashion; her shy blue eyes were as timid as a child's, and her figure was scarcely formed. Altogether, Una was a very unprepossessing young woman; and yet something about her stood out as clearly as Faith's beauty. Many years ago, Mrs. Blythe had prophesized that Una Meredith was "sweetness personified" and would "make a most lovable woman". Anne Blythe was not known for her expertise in the prophesizing line, but she had certainly hit the mark here, for Una was the sweetest, most obliging, most sensitive girl in the Glen, with a quiet, iron-clad strength that everyone who knew her subconsciously felt. It was a strength that would make itself even more apparent in the years to come; but nobody suspected what the future held, most especially the four girls who were too concerned with the present and the enjoyments of their vacation.

"No matter what, dear P.E.I. is still the only home," Nan averred, and the others agreed whole-heartedly. During other parts of the year they, and the boys, were scattered throughout the country – or, as disapproving Glen folks put it, the "entire globe" – but none ever failed to come back during the summer.

"It's been a very _inclusive _year," Di said as she popped a chestnut into her mouth. "Or maybe I feel it's that way because of Walter getting the typhoid…it seemed to take up such an awful lot of time, somehow."

"It _was_ quite an awful lot of time," said Faith somberly, remembering the amount of sleepless nights both she and Jerry had gone through in Kingsport, while Jem had flown back to the Island in case the tide went the other way with his brother.

Una said nothing, but she, too, was thinking of the agony of the days when they'd thought Walter was about to leave them.

"Walter will be fully recovered soon, though," Nan said. "He'll be coming with us to Redmond when vacation ends. I do wish," she added wistfully, "that I could have another year with my pupils. I was beginning to like all of them and then I had to leave."

"I don't see why you can't stay for another year," Faith said, raising her eyebrows quizzically. "There's no real hurry for you to go to college; Walter was bound to come with us next semester, anyway, but all of us thought you and Di would come only the year after next. Won't your mother be lonesome with only Rilla at Ingleside?"

Nan shrugged. "There was no arguing with father. Once he puts his foot down, we know that a matter is settled. You'll finally have us at Redmond, Faith, and you can stop scolding us for being a year younger."

Faith laughed. "I _was_ rather vocal, wasn't I? Don't feel so bitter over it, Nanny. Redmond is lots of fun – different fun from teaching, but fun all the time. You'll have Jem, Jerry and I, not to mention crowds of new friends to make. Think about it from that perspective and you won't feel so badly over having to leave your pupils."

"Speaking of Rilla," said Di…rather belatedly, it must be admitted, "she's so excited about the Lewisons' dance at the light tomorrow. Mother didn't want to let her go at first, but Walter talked her over, and this is going to be Rilla's first grown-up party. She's been thinking and planning for weeks about what to wear to it. Personally I don't think she needs to fuss over herself so much; she's so pretty and gay that there'll be loads of boys after her."

"Rilla has become very pretty," Una said.

"Not to mention incredibly vain," Nan added. "Don't look at me like that, Di; she's my baby sister and I love her, but you _have_ to admit that she's vain. When we were fourteen we never bothered about what dresses we were wearing."

"She'll grow out of it," Di said wisely. "Everyone pets her a wee bit too much, except Jem; he teases her to no end when she's off on a vanity spree."

"Jem would do that," Faith remarked, smiling. "He has no use for girls frolicking in front of the mirror and fishing for compliments."

Nan shot her a look. "You would know that, of course," she said slyly. "I fancy there isn't much you don't know about my eldest brother, Faith Meredith!"

"No, there isn't," Faith agreed easily, which was a trick of hers whenever anyone baited her. "And it isn't curious, either, taking into consideration how much time I spend with him and Jerry in Kingsport. But I fancy there isn't much you don't know about _my _brother, either, Nan."

A ripe flush crept into Nan's cheeks. "Trust you, Faith, to turn a bait right back at me!" she sighed, then relented. "Sometimes I feel that perhaps Jerry doesn't care as much for me as I do for him. I know he cares for me, of course, but…there are times when he doesn't take any particular notice of me, when all he cares about are his friends and his work. I never know what to make of him during those times. It's not like you and Jem, Faith; everyone can see how devoted Jem is to you – why the both of you aren't officially courting yet is something I cannot fathom – but Jerry treats me like a very good friend and nothing else."

"Jerry is like that," Faith said, making a mental note to hint to her brother that demonstrating emotions was as important as feeling them. "He's too clear-headed and down to earth for his own good sometimes. But he does care very much for you, Nan; he missed you a lot last year at Redmond."

Nan shrugged and shifted the topic away from herself. "Carl will be going to college too, won't he?"

Una shook her head. "He wants to earn his way through college, so he'll be going to Harbour Head to teach for a year or two."

"I certainly hope he pays attention to other subjects instead of teaching them everything to be known in the fascinating world of bugs," Di laughed. "I wouldn't put it past him to bring a snake into class just to demonstrate how it eats and sleeps. I'm not sure I'd enjoy being in his class."

"Well, there'll be one very definite advantage; he won't whip any of his students," Faith said. "Ever since he threw that eel into Mrs. Carr's buggy and father didn't whip him, he's had a phobia of caning. I think he'd be more terrified of the whip than his students."

"I hope he can maintain order then," Nan commented. "I thought I'd never whip any of my students, either, but two months into the job saw me whipping that insufferable little Pip Owen as hard as my rod could go. I cried after that, but it did do him a world of good, if I do say so myself. The only person I know who can keep order without whipping is Walter; he just looks at them and they're frightened into submission."

"I wouldn't want to be looked at by Walter," Faith said with a shudder. "It would frighten me more than Harry Warren's ghost."

All of them laughed at this reminder of their past. Initially furious over their cowardice in the Harry Warren ghost affair, Faith, Una and Carl had eventually seen the hilarity of it and it was now a standing joke among them.

"Our lives seem mapped out already, don't they?" said Di. "Rilla will stay at home and get married eventually; Una as well, I suppose; and the rest of us will just graduate from Redmond, find jobs…and then get married too. Jem will be a doctor, like father, and Jerry will become a businessman, and Carl will pursue his bug career, and Walter will strive to publish his poetry…and we womenfolk will stay at home and darn socks."

"Oh, don't make it sound so mundane!" Faith cried. "I'm sure there will always be exciting new things that will pop out from time to time. Besides," she added with a laugh, "darning socks can be an adventure too. Just yesterday I attempted to darn one and destroyed it beyond all recognition. I don't understand how Una can be such an expert in household things when I'm such a dud. There's injustice _somewhere."_

"And also several more hours put in practicing on Una's part," Nan said.

"Una is the only one who doesn't seem to have any ambition," Di said, looking affectionately at the quiet second daughter of the manse. "Una, what does the future hold for you, I wonder?"

Little did any of them know the cheerless answer that would begin at a train station and end in a shell-torn field 'somewhere in France', and perhaps it was best that they did not know, or they would certainly have lost all appetite for the cookies that they suddenly felt hungry for. As it was, they left the cosy garret and trooped down the stairs to search out Susan and get up an impromptu meal of what Shirley Blythe nicknamed the 'Susan-brand' cookies and monkey faces.


	2. The Boys Talk

_Chapter 2 – The Boys Talk_

While the girls feasted in the kitchen, out in the Ingleside lawn their brothers were reposing peacefully after an energetic football match wherein nearly all the Glen boys had participated. Jem Blythe's team had emerged triumphant by a very respectable score line, while Ritchie Warren's team had taken a beating none of them were happy about. Jerry Meredith had been on Ritchie's team and was mildly depressed over the loss. He swung on the hammock, trying to think of all the reasons why they had lost, while Jem frolicked with Dog Monday, Carl watched his beloved ants and Walter read poetry.

The boys were just as glad as the girls to be together again, even though they tried not to express it. Walter and Carl knew of Jem and Jerry's tremendous popularity in college, especially Jem, and the amount of parties and societies they were constantly invited to. Jem travelled in Redmond's elite circles and was welcome everywhere he went. Jerry was one of Redmond's star students and won scholarships seemingly effortlessly. Yet no amount of college glamour could replace the charm of childhood memories, and Jem and Jerry were really very pleased to be back among their old chums.

Walter was still in a convalescence period after his severe attack of typhoid only weeks ago. He had been teaching at Lowbridge for the past two years, where everyone heard of the "young schoolmaster who talked like a book", and even the rowdiest boys were squelched by one look out of their teacher's deep grey eyes. They didn't think highly of him – boys never did think highly of Walter – but they feared and respected him. Carl had emerged among the top of his class at Queen's Academy and was cheerfully contemplating earning his way through college. Critical people said he would "teach his students everything about bugs and nothing else and would be much better off going straight to college", but Carl didn't mind their talk; he had no idea of burdening his parents with more college fees.

"I'll earn whatever I can and if it can't take me through to college I won't go," he had proclaimed to his siblings.

"It's people like you who make me look useless," Faith said laughingly, "as though I'm needlessly squandering father's money!"

But they respected his independence, for all that, and approving Glen folks said that he'd mature fastest of any of the Meredith brood yet.

At present, though, none of them were thinking about college or work, drunk with the enjoyment of vacation and meaning to make the most of it before autumn came.

"Ritchie has no leadership," Jerry announced, breaking the comfortable silence. "Half the time I didn't know what he wanted me to do, and his tactics were abysmal. Walt, what do you think?"

Walter, who had watched from the sidelines, was jolted from his revelry with Robert Browning and looked up from his book. "What do I think about what?"

Jerry repeated his comment.

"Ritchie never did have any leadership," said Walter. "Nor is he a great tactician."

"Still mooning over the loss, Jerry?" Jem laughed, flinging a few fallen leaves at him.

Jerry fanned away the leaves successfully. "I will never join Ritchie's team again," he said determinedly. "Jem, do you have space on your team for one more?"

"Give me one reason to have space," said Jem teasingly.

Jerry considered for a moment. "Well, that one person wants to win," he said.

"Selfishness. Not good. Generosity in sports always," Jem lectured. "But since you appealed with such _passion _I suppose I'll have to consider it."

Carl made an unintelligible sound at the back of his throat and sat back, looking very satisfied. Both Jem and Jerry glanced at him. "What's the latest news in ant-world, Carl?" Jerry asked.

"You know, ants aren't much different from people," said Carl, motioning to the tree trunk he had been studying for the past half hour. "I was watching these two fellows fight over a lady, and in the end she opted for the fourth party and walked away from those two. It seems strange that there's so much going on in this little world that's hardly noticed by us."

"Battles, romances, tragedies and bliss," said Walter dreamily.

Jerry looked skeptical. "No studies I ever made told me that ants were like people."

"We _do _notice them," said Jem lightly. "We always notice them when they crawl on the paper we're trying to write on." He flung a stick at the other end of the lawn and Dog Monday tore after it with loud barks.

"I shall enjoy my knowledge then," said Carl good-humouredly. He had long since given up trying to draw his brother and friends into his interest for bugs. "Is it true that Rilla will be attending the lighthouse dance?"

"Yes," Walter supplied. "Mother wouldn't let her go at first but I managed to get her to agree. It'll be a shame if Rilla isn't allowed to go – she's been looking forward to it for so long and she's so eager to show that she's a young woman. I think she'll enjoy herself."

"So will the boys," said Jerry, thinking of pretty, thoughtless Rilla Blythe. "She's quite the prettiest girl in the Glen. Well, she can take the places of Faith and Una."

"Irene Howard told Faith yesterday that there would be a taffy pull in the kitchen for those who didn't dance," said Jem, laughing. "Faith made a grotesque face at her – really, Faith does have a gift for pulling faces – and Irene was supremely offended. I can never understand why some girls enjoy being poisonous to each other. Irene seems to exude spite in whatever she says."

"We can do without Irene," said Jerry darkly. "She's no credit to our society."

Dog Monday dropped, panting, at Walter's side and proceeded to cover Walter's face in affectionate licks. Jem retrieved the stick and sat down beside Carl. "I intend to have as fun a summer as possible," he declared. "I had enough of experiments and examinations in the past year, anything work-related will be avoided like the plague. No moping around this summer!"

"Nobody ever accused _you _of moping around, Jem," Carl remarked. "The amount of fish you brought back yesterday will be enough to feed your family for a week."

"You can't say you didn't enjoy my fish," Jem defended. "Anyway, judging from the way you lot ate last night, the fish will only last us for three more days."

Jem had organised a fishing expedition the day before and most of the Glen boys had joined in. Bertie Shakespeare Drew had snapped his fishing line during a mad struggle with a huge fish and Dan Reese had reportedly stolen some of the others' catch to have bragging rights. Jem himself had gotten an enormous haul and invited the Merediths over for a dinner party which, much to Susan's chagrin, he insisted on frying the fish for.

Years of frying fish in Rainbow Valley over a stone stove with an old tin can and a fork with only one tine had made a more than adequate cook out of him, so the dinner party had been a success. "We've eaten enough to kill a whale," said Di, and Nan, groaning on the sofa, had fully agreed.

"Una didn't want to eat breakfast this morning," said Jerry. "She said she was too full from last night's dinner. But father remembered her fainting spell in church last time and insisted that she eat something. Jem, I think we should go boating."

That random statement was not lost on any of his audience. Even Walter sat up with interest. "We can go on the harbour," he suggested. "Especially at sunset. Sunset on the waters must be intolerably beautiful."

"Oh, yes," said Carl eagerly. "And we can picnic on the sand dunes, or have a fire and cook mussels and fishes over it. Why, we can even spend a night in the House of Dreams and continue boating in the morning. I'm sure the Fords won't mind – and anyway your mother has an extra key, doesn't she?"

"That sounds good," said Jem, struck with the idea. "No, more than good. A brainwave, Jerry! Will it be too strenuous for Una, though? She's always been a bit frail."

"Of course she'll rest whenever she needs to," said Jerry. "We can talk about a two-day, maybe three-day camp! The House of Dreams is in an ideal location. The girls can sleep in the rooms and we can make use of the living room."

"We can go two days after the dance," Jem pondered. "I suppose the girls will want a rest immediately after it. I'll call them out."

Carl slapped Jerry's back enthusiastically as Jem walked off. "That's a capital idea. I don't think mother or dad can have any possible objections, other than taking care of Una properly. Do you think Rilla and Shirley will want to come along, Walt?"

"Rilla will definitely want to come," said Walter. He did not say that Rilla would be very upset if she wasn't invited – she wanted so badly to be a part of them and join in any activity they came up with. Yet he could not blame the others for being forgetful of her sometimes; it was difficult to have to take a fourteen-year-old girl into consideration all the time.

The girls were as excited about the idea as they had been, even Una who was not much disposed for physical activities. But on this occasion she was as delighted as everyone else was. "I can make up a picnic basket for the first day," she said.

"Then it is settled," said Jem. "I will never miss out on an opportunity to devour Una's picnic baskets! We'd better invite Mary Vance as well, in case she catches wind of it and never lets us forget it."

"I'll go down to Miss Cornelia's later on and invite her," Di offered.

"I'll go with you," said Nan. "I want to see Mary's dress for tomorrow."

They scattered soon after, with Carl heading for a meeting with Charley Booth, Una back home to help with her mother's sewing, Nan and Di for their trip down to Miss Cornelia's, and Jerry to Elder Clow's house to collect a borrowed book. As everyone moved out of the lawn, talking gaily, Faith found her hand in Jem's.

"Tonight at Rainbow Valley," he whispered.

"I won't forget," Faith replied, dimpling.

Only Walter observed this little byplay and looked away.


	3. Romantic Entanglements

**A/N: **Just to reply to some of your wonderful comments :)

lena-jade: I figured that LMM's football would be Canadian football, and as I know nothing about it, I was really vague! If it had been soccer, I would probably have put in some tactical analysis, lol! I remember Jerry Thornton, he'll be making a guest appearance later on...as will a few other people from RtY :) Thank you for your very constructive comment.

r6144: Yes, I am the admin of that website. Thanks, glad you liked it :)

blythetwin: I will try to incorporate Shirley into one or two of the chapters.

PurtyinPurple: I'm sorry to hear you found YNWA boring. Hopefully it'll pick up life for you in the later chapters :)

_Chapter 3 – Romantic Entanglements_

Dr. Gilbert Blythe, a respected, well-to-do man in his fifties, smiled his 'morning' smile at the Blythe family as he sat down to breakfast. His heart never failed to give a throb of pride at the sight of them; Anne was as youthful and charming as she had ever been at twenty, and his brood was such a bonny, merry lot. He would not have exchanged his family and job for any of his youthful ambitions of big city hospitals.

Di handed the papers to him as Susan poured out his tea. 'GERMANY DECLARES WAR ON FRANCE' ran the headlines in big, bold black lettering and he frowned in concern, sipping his tea almost absent-mindedly. Only a few days ago the news had come of a student assassinating the Arch-Duke of Austria-Hungary, and he had anticipated that it would put a lid on the undercurrent of tension in Europe.

"What's the news this morning, dad?" asked Jem casually as he buttered his toast, still thinking of the night before in Rainbow Valley where Faith had looked like a nymph in the twilight. He could feel himself falling deeper in love with her each day, this beautiful, goddess-like girl with her sparkling eyes and dimpled smiles, and could barely believe that she actually loved him back.

Dr. Blythe turned the paper briefly for his eldest son to see the headline. Jem's attention was instantly diverted. "Germany declares war on France! Why, dad, this is serious!"

"Germany is at war with two nations?" asked Gertrude Oliver, the clever, striking teacher of Rilla's who was boarding with them. "Just a few days ago she declared war on Russia. Is she trying to make this into an international conflict?"

"So it would seem," said Dr. Blythe, running his eye down the article and catching at the salient points. "Germany has invaded Belgium on its way to France."

"But Belgium is neutral," interjected Jem.

"I do wonder what the world is coming to these days," remarked Susan as she poured out milk for Rilla. "One never opens up the papers without seeing somebody or other being murdered or these nations trying to battle each other. Not," she added, "as if it matters much to _us,_ Mrs. Dr. dear."

Walter, disregarding all table manners, leaned forward and craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the article. "France is in the Triple Entente, isn't she?" he said, frowning as well. "Britain has to come to France's aid – if Britain chooses to enter the war too, why then…"

Jem was looking at him with bright eyes. "_If _Britain chooses to enter the war? If things aren't patched up, Britain will definitely be in the war."

Dr. Blythe looked slightly troubled. "Yes, Britain will definitely be in the war. I only hope it doesn't get as serious as that. A war of countries…"

Walter turned pale and sat back in his chair thoughtfully. In his mind's eye he could see the entire Canada lying out before him, with a shadowy, mythical figure evoking beautiful, irresistible music from a pipe…and all the lads of the maple following…

"Mother, _do_ you think you could lend me your pearl necklace for the lighthouse dance?" asked Rilla pleadingly. "It would look so pretty with whichever dress I'm going in – the white one or the green one. All the girls would be wild if I wore it, and I promise to take care of it."

"I think it will certainly go very well with your white dress," said Mrs. Blythe, "but as for your green one, I think you'd much better try it on first to see how it looks. Why not have a trial after breakfast and we'll decide which necklace looks the prettiest?"

"Rilla's first grown-up party," Nan laughed. "I hope you'll enjoy it with all your heart, dearest of babies. I know _I _enjoyed my first, and you're much prettier than I am or ever will be." She affectionately ruffled up her younger sister's hair.

Jem clicked his tongue slightly impatiently and wondered inwardly why girls worried so much over the latest fashions and parties. Faith was the only one he knew who did not worry unduly over her dresses and hair styles. The mere thought of her made him yearn to see her again, so he took a last drink of his tea and turned to Mrs. Blythe. "May I be excused, mother?"

Mrs. Blythe hesitated. "Are you sure you should call on the Merediths at this hour? It's only eight thirty."

"Don't worry, they wake up earlier than we do," Jem assured her. "So long, everyone – don't look so anxious, Spider, you'll be the belle of the ball." Before Rilla could object indignantly to being called 'Spider' again, he was already out of the house. He loved his mother and sisters as well as any young man could, but there were times when he felt what Highland Sandy of Upper Glen had once said to his father was very true, "Too much wimmen, doctor, too much wimmen!"

Back in Ingleside, Di observed the sudden gloom that came over Walter's face, but made no comment about it. She knew only too well what was troubling him, but as nobody else knew it, she kept quiet and waited for him to make the first move on the subject.

Her mother and Rilla soon left the table to experiment with jewellery, and Nan went up to her room to prepare for a Rainbow Valley tryst with Jerry. Di followed her and sat on the bed watching her twin dress, thinking how Rainbow Valley had transformed from their childhood playground to a lovers' hideaway. It possessed a certain sort of romantic magic, a magical allurement that was completely suited for any amount of 'sweethearting' – and Di often wondered, with a little pang, whether she would ever follow in Jem and Nan's footsteps. It wasn't that she envied Nan Jerry Meredith – oh dear, no – but the idea that Nan had someone who loved and wanted her while she didn't, grated on her slightly. And she would have died rather than make that admission to anyone but Walter.

Nan looked almost impossibly pretty in a yellow dress that she had just put on, the yellow shade bringing out the luster of her brown hair and the fairness of her skin. She was the only Blythe daughter who shone in yellow and pink, and Di secretly begrudged her that advantage. She'd always loved pink, but had never worn it due to her ruddy tresses which until now she was not fully reconciled to. Brown hair went with almost everything – but red hair was so much more tiresome.

"Do you think he'll like this?" Nan asked slightly anxiously, straightening her sleeves.

"Of course he will," said Di almost mechanically.

Nan picked up a green hairpin with little glittering diamonds and pushed it into her hair, stepping back to survey the dramatic and strangely harmonious combination of yellow and green.

"Where did you get that?" Di asked, never having noticed that pin before.

Nan flushed. "Jerry bought it for me in Kingsport," she said.

"It's pretty," said Di. "He'll like seeing it on your hair."

"He won't say it, though," said Nan a trifle gloomily. "Oh, he's wonderful, and I wouldn't exchange him for any man on earth – but I do wish he'll be a little more demonstrative – just a _little_. The hairpin is a lovely thought but he gave it to me so casually, as though it was for anyone, not especially me – that all I'm appreciating is the _thought._ I wish – he was more like Jem. Whenever I see Jem doing all those things for Faith – giving her flowers and walking her home from Ingleside – I feel so jealous I hate myself."

"You can't expect Jerry to be like Jem," said Di practically. "Jerry is so much more unromantic. Little things from him mean a lot – like this hairpin. He must have been thinking of you in Kingsport to care about buying it. And he does love you, I've seen him looking at you."

Nan sighed, then turned from the mirror with a defiant smile. "Well, I love him for him and that means accepting everything, doesn't it? I won't think about it if I can. I have to run now, he doesn't like being kept waiting. Goodbye, dear."

Di watched her sister hurry down the path from Ingleside in the direction of Rainbow Valley, then loosened her tight hold on the window sill and left in search of Walter. She found him wandering about moodily in the lawn, so immersed in his thoughts that he barely noticed her. Knowing him well enough not to be offended by his ignoring her, she slipped an arm chummily through his and gave him a little shake. "Do you want to take a walk down the harbour road? The day is lovely enough for a nice stroll."

Walter pulled himself out of his reverie and nodded. "Did you hear that we'll be sailing from the creek below the House of Dreams to the light tonight?" he said as they walked out of Ingleside.

"Yes," said Di. "Jem and Joe Milgrave will be at the boats again, I suppose."

"He will," said Walter almost bitterly. "The centre of attention as always."

Di looked at him, mildly surprised. "He is, but it's not his fault. Everyone naturally starts listening to him whenever he talks. Walt, you know that."

Walter forced a grin and nodded. "Yes, I do. Don't mind me, Di. I didn't mean it the way it sounded. In fact – I didn't mean it at all."

"Don't think about it," said Di cheerfully. "Just think about the good time we'll have tonight. The Lewisons always give everyone a good time. You must promise me to dance every dance."

Walter smiled. "That's you all over, always trying to make me enjoy myself! Don't worry, I do intend to dance, _if _I can. There will be far more boys than girls."

"But none of them will be handsomer than you," said Di, who regarded her favourite brother as quite the handsomest man on P.E.I. "It's a good thing that Kenneth will be attending the dance; we've seen so little of him since he came down." A merry smile lit on her face. "He's so tired of inquiries about his ankle that the last time he was at Ingleside he told me he'd wear a placard saying 'Ankle improving, thank you for asking!'"

"I remember the letter he sent me from Toronto when I was still in hospital," Walter laughed, his face losing some of its melancholy and growing brighter. "Both of us were laid up and he was saying how tired he was getting to be of his bed. 'Bed in early mornings is so desirable, but bed in afternoons and evenings is not!' He made me laugh until the nurse thought I had gone mentally unsound."

"Did you show that to me?" Di asked. "Ken does write awfully nice letters – a knack he inherited from his father, I suppose."

Walter began to say something, but stopped. Di glanced at him in confusion, saw him staring at something ahead of them, and followed his gaze to see Jem and Faith loitering ahead on the harbour shore. They were holding hands, apparently unaware that they were not alone, and the easy intimacy so evident between them spoke volumes about how far their relationship had progressed. Di bit her lip, wishing she hadn't suggested the walk. "Maybe we should go back," she said.

"Yes," Walter said, his voice tight.

Accordingly they turned and walked back towards the Glen, both silent. Di knew that Walter had loved Faith ever since their time together at Queen's Academy. It wasn't difficult to fall in love with Faith; she was so beautiful and brilliant, so much fun to be with. Yet there had never been a chance for Walter – Jem and Faith were such soulmates it was impossible thinking of them with someone else. Di wished with all her heart that Walter would find another girl to love, but three years had gone by and he hadn't looked at anyone else.

Walter didn't say anything until they had reached Ingleside. Then he turned to her and gave her a half-smile. "I want you to know that I do understand I don't have a chance," he said. "I can love her without any hope that she'll love me back. And I do believe that Jem will make her far happier than I can."

"Oh, Walt," said Di softly, her heart aching at the pain she saw in his eyes. "There will always be someone else, you know – someone you'll meet and love eventually."

He didn't respond to that, and they parted until the evening came upon them.


	4. A Walk to the Lighthouse

_Frangipanigirl: _Don't worry, you didn't offend me at all!

_lena-jade: _Wikipedia is one of my favourite websites! It makes research SO much easier.

_Chapter 4 – A Walk To The Lighthouse_

It was a beautiful, warm August evening in the Glen, with the last catches of the sunbeams slowly sinking into the horizon. The sky was like a great canvas for the old artist Mother Nature, painted over the top with satin blue and tinges of grey before interspersing dabs of orange until the bottom was filled with dull flaming sunset fires. Little wispy breezes carrying the scent of flowers blew merrily through the manse where the Meredith girls were dressing themselves for the dance. Faith stuck her head out of her window to receive the evening with an upturned face and delighted eyes. The air was filled with delicious fragrances and sounds – the chiming of the old bells in Rainbow Valley, the ring of girlish laughter from the houses, the world lying in a vibrant kaleidoscope of colours and beauties.

"Isn't it all rapturous?" she cried to Una, who was coming into her room to show off her dress. "I just love dance days – the atmosphere seems to be overfilling with anticipation."

"You're not disappointed anymore about not being able to dance?" Una asked as Faith came up to her and slid a butterfly hairpin into her smooth dark hair.

"No, I can't feel disappointment today," said Faith gaily. "There, that looks lovely…do wear my sapphire necklace, Una, it goes so well with your dress. I can't feel anything but happy before a dance." She turned her sister round to face the mirror and looked appraisingly into it.

Una couldn't help a smile as she saw Faith's radiant countenance. "I'm so happy for you, dearest. It's only what you deserve. I know that Jem loves you with all his heart – you're so good together."

Faith laughed as she went to her wardrobe and pulled out a pale green satin dress. "_Jem _loves me? Why, _I _love him…his eyes and his nose and his mouth and his unruly curls and the air above his head and the ground he walks on…and every word and every smile and every expression, and absolutely all of him! I never imagined I could have so much love to give to another person."

"But you _are_ full of love for everybody," said Una loyally, watching as Faith got into the green dress and did a little twirl around the room. "It looks perfect," she said admiringly.

Faith stood before the mirror and took in her beauty with a sort of impersonal pleasure. "Yes, it does look pretty," she said, smiling at the glorious creature reflected. "Plain dresses are sometimes prettier than elaborate ones, aren't they?"

"Especially on you," said Una, who had no thought of envying her sister's looks. "Faith, I heard you and Jerry talking about the news this morning – about a war – is it anything serious?"

Faith sat down at her dresser and sifted through her necklaces. "Germany is at war with France and Russia."

"Then," said Una, a little relieved, "it doesn't matter to us, does it?"

"Well," said Faith, fixing a pair of faintly pink pearl earrings in her ears, "Europe is all grouped up in alliances. France and Britain are in an alliance. Germany invaded Belgium, and Sir Edward Gray, Britain's foreign secretary, has issued an ultimatum to Germany to withdraw its troops from Belgium."

"Have they?" asked Una anxiously.

"We don't know yet." Faith decided not to wear any necklaces – the scoop of the dress did display her curve of chin and neck so well.

"If Britain goes to war, will it mean anything to us?" Una persisted.

"To _us_, I don't know, but to Canada, yes, most possibly." Faith caught sight of Una's worried face and turned, smiling. "Don't worry so much about it. It mayn't mean anything at all. Germany might accede to Britain's ultimatum yet. Just think about the dance tonight. Here are the Blythes!" as both of them heard the doorbell ring. "Take that worried look off your face, there's a dear, and enjoy the night."

Jem drew in his breath sharply as Faith came out of her room, lighting up the gloom of the hallway with her beauty. Not for the first time, he wondered whether she knew how much he loved her; loved every part of her to distraction. "_What_ is it about you, Faith, that makes you shine so in plain things?" he asked. "Maggie Tulliver could not have carried off that dress any better."

"Save your compliments for Una," said Faith, nodding towards her sister. "Doesn't she look pretty?"

"Yes," said Jem, smiling at the blushing Una. "Both of you look lovely." He held out his arm to Faith. "Any fellow who dares to come near you tonight will never dare to again," he said in an undertone.

"I won't have you alienating me," Faith reproved. "A simple warning will be sufficient."

Jem laughed out loud as they went down the stairs. "We're agreed, then – a simple warning."

"Where is Dog Monday?" asked Faith as they set off down the old harbour road.

"He's locked up in the barn," said Jem casually. "We decided that we didn't want him appearing all of a sudden at the dance like he did the last time. I'll never forget having to go all the way back to Ingleside simply to lock him up in my room…and then he chewed up my slippers! Drastic measures are called for this time."

The night was frosted over with moonlight by the time they proceeded from the manse in a loose group. Nan looked resplendent in a pretty yellow dress and a hair style which Faith knew was doing its rounds in the big cities. Nobody in the Glen had a better grasp of the latest fashions than Nan, not even Faith, who spent most of her time in college.

"You look like a princess, Nan," Carl remarked. "The boys will be out of their minds about you tonight."

"Thank you," said Nan with a smile, but the girls knew Carl's compliments were not what she was waiting for. So far Jerry hadn't said anything to her remotely tender, and Nan was feeling rather wounded in the soul. To be sure, there was admiration in his eyes whenever he looked at her, but _looking _just _wasn't_ enough!

The group soon fell into pairs as they went along, an arrangement inevitable for a party with so many couples. Faith found herself walking arm-in-arm with Jem, listening more to the sound of his voice than to what he was saying. She had a vague notion that his talk had diverted to war, and she wasn't about to let battles and killings and bloodshed spoil the enchantment of the night for her.

She glanced around at the others when Jem wasn't looking. How pretty Rilla was in her green dress with its little pink daisy garlands! She would certainly have no end of partners. She was walking with Gertrude Oliver and Mary Vance, and both the former looked a little irritated with the latter. Faith had to suppress a smile; Mary _was_ rather trying sometimes, and there had never been any love lost between she and Rilla ever since Mary chased the latter down the Glen with a dried codfish. Well, Mary wouldn't bother Rilla once Miller Douglas showed up.

Carl was walking with Miranda Pryor, fully aware that Joe Milgrave was idling about somewhere behind them. So this was Carl's revenge at Joe for beating him in chess the previous day! If Miranda had been any other girl she would have openly left Carl and walked up to Joe, but Miranda was not any other girl and the only thing she would do was to suffer in silence by Carl's side.

Shirley and Una were walking together as they usually did whenever they went out in a group…Una looking as sweet as ever in the moonlight, Shirley looking the solid, dependable, no-nonsense boy that he was. Faith had always liked Shirley – he was matter-of-fact and clever, and though he was a boy of few words, what he said was normally worth listening to.

Faith would have continued her musings if something Jem was saying did not catch her attention at that point. "…he was left on the field to die. And he crawled about from man to man, to all the wounded men round him, as long as he could, and did everything possible to relieve their sufferings – never thinking of himself – he was tying a bit of bandage round another man's leg when he went under. They found them there, the doctor's dead hands still held the bandage tight, the bleeding was stopped and the other man's life was saved. Some hero, wasn't he, Faith? I tell you when I read that I mentally cursed all those who ever said man's nature is evil. How can man's nature possibly be evil when an act like that is performed? A man, dying and in tremendous pain, yet thinking and working for others. If that isn't beauty, I don't know what is."

"It is certainly beautiful," Faith agreed, struck by the story. "It seems," she added thoughtfully, "that war brings out both the best and the worst in human nature. Courage, self-sacrifice, endurance – yet desperation and greed can drive an ordinary man to crime. War seems such a thing of the past – of the Napoleons and Alexander the Greats and Agamemnons – it seems so strange that there's war going on in Europe now."

"Yes, and if the war continues on we can all expect Britain to take her hand in it," said Jem gaily. "When that happens, well, I suppose we'll have to pitch in and help her out."

Faith smiled tightly, finding it difficult to share his enthusiasm. War was the only subject she and Jem disagreed on; he seemed to see it as an adventure, a wild and glorified thing, whereas she always thought of suffering and anguish. No pleasure could ever be derived from men fighting and killing each other!

Jem looked down at her and saw that her face, which had been so sunny before, was now downcast. He reached out and took hold of her hand, squeezing it slightly. "I've been a fool to go on in this manner, knowing how much you…there, forgive me and we'll talk about something else, won't we?"

This time her smile was far more genuine. "Let's not be philosophical or educated tonight, let's talk about the most frivolous things. I can't think of Milton, Shakespeare or world politics when I'm walking to a dance. How beautiful everything is tonight – as though Nature specially spread herself out to be lovely! It's difficult thinking that there's anything else on earth besides us, isn't it?"

"Yes," Jem agreed. "It does seem as though we're the only people in existence."

"Or that all the millions of people on this planet are walking to a dance too," said Faith. "But there – someone must be crying now…someone must be dying…someone must have given birth. All those lives co-existing with ours – it does make one feel a little overawed."

"Whenever someone is in seven heavens of delight, someone else is in the depths of despair," Jem mused. "And every second a story ends and another one begins. But there, there's almost philosophical, and didn't you want to talk about the most frivolous things?"

"Blame it on your war talk," said Faith severely.

Jem laughed, but before he could answer, his name was called and both of them turned their heads to see Joe Milgrave coming up. "Jem," he said, "If you haven't noticed, we're at the harbour already and I'll put five on you losing to me in a boat race."

Jem's hazel eyes twinkled with fun. "Mother taught me never to bet, but I'll take that race," he answered.

Faith nudged him. "How virtuous we are tonight," she teased.

Jem leaned in and whispered, "I'm not about to squander my money."

"Have some faith in yourself, Jem Blythe," Faith admonished.

"No, no," Jem shook his head. "I can beat Joe Milgrave in everything _but_ boats. I have a sneaking suspicion that he deliberately knows so much about them just to humiliate me."

Faith laughed merrily. "In that case, I should join Joe's boat, shouldn't I? After all, what's the use in supporting a man who's given up hope in himself?"

"You're not going anywhere," Jem ordered. "All heroes are meant to have fair ladies and you're mine." He winked at her and disengaged his hand from hers. "All right, everyone," he announced in a stentorian voice. "Anyone in favour of Jem Blythe please come this way, and all those who support this…_man_ here, may go to _his_ boat."

The night rang with laughter as the group chose either Joe's boat or Jem's. The Blythes, Merediths, Mary Vance and a few others settled down quite happily in Jem's boat while the skipper himself stood at the helm and looked across at Joe. "I'm going to give you a hard fight, Joe Milgrave," he called.

"Yes, for example wallowing five minutes in my backwash instead of ten?" Joe inquired.

"Don't exaggerate, it was always fifteen minutes!" Jem shouted back.

The signal was given and both boats sped down the harbour, Jem managing to keep in line with Joe's boat until the final minute when Joe inched forward and swung in below the lighthouse a few seconds earlier. Jem laughed and saluted his competitor with a good grace while the two boats rapidly emptied themselves. The music from Ned Burr's violin could already be heard and the girls went tripping up the rock-cut steps, chatting and giggling among themselves.

Faith got off the boat, but remained standing, looking up wistfully at the bright pavilion. There was nothing she'd like better than to be up there with the rest of the people, but it would be torture to stand against the wall watching others have fun. Boats from over harbour were arriving and many cheerful greetings called out to her as crowds of people alighted.

"You look positively radiant, darling," said Irene Howard sweetly. "It's such a shame that you won't be able to dance, isn't it?"

Faith smiled back just as sweetly. "I think it will be a bigger shame to be stuck up against the wall for want of partners," she said clearly and meaningfully. Irene flushed and went away, mentally resolving never to speak another word to Faith Meredith again. Minister's daughter, indeed!

"Faith, queen of my heart!" she heard another person saying, and turned to hold out her hands to Kenneth Ford, who came towards her with a smile. "You look even better than the last time I saw you," he said, taking hold of her hands and looking her up and down. They were the best of friends and had plenty of pow wows together, including gentle, friendly flirtations which never amounted to anything. She teased him about his conquests as gamely as he teased her about her suitors, and both got on famously.

"_You_ definitely look better," Faith returned. "The last time I saw you, you were in bed grousing about missing out on football."

"I wasn't _grousing," _Kenneth said haughtily. "Expressing my feelings vocally, but not _grousing._"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, of course not," Faith said in a tone of mock repentance.

Ken winked at her. "Will I be able to dance with my favourite girl tonight?" he asked. "Or is she not allowed to dance?"

"Unfortunately it's the latter," Faith sighed. "But knowing you, you'll have more than enough partners vying for your attention."

"You can let go of her now, Ken."

Ken raised his eyebrows at Jem, who had finished greeting his crowds of friends and had come looking for his 'fair lady'. "Do I sense something?" Ken asked as he released Faith.

"Some things have changed over the past few months," Jem replied.

Ken laughed roguishly. "Glad to hear it. In that case, I'd better leave before you get inanely jealous. Count yourself lucky that a belle like Faith allows a chap like you within ten feet of her!"

"Surely you mean twenty feet," said Jerry's laughing voice behind them, and he came up with Nan. "Good to see you again, Ken."

"Now I'm feeling suspiciously like the odd one out," Ken complained after exchanging friendly punches with Jerry. "I shall betake my lonely soul to the ballroom – see you later at supper, fellows."

Of course, the two couples left behind had no thought of spending the night as a foursome, and so by an unspoken understanding they left to enjoy the night as only happy young people in love can.


	5. The Announcement

**A/N: **In reply to some queries, yes, this story will be covering the entire war. I may not cover the time period after the war…I think that can take up a whole new fic!

_Chapter 5 – The Announcement_

Whatever their shortcomings, the Lewisons did know how to get up a dance, and it was a delightful night for all concerned. Even Walter found himself opening to the cheerful music and finding more than enough willing partners to last the entire party. As for Di, the joy of dancing with friends was coupled with the pleasure of seeing Rilla so well received by everyone, and she talked and laughed as she had never done before.

Nan knew that Di and Rilla were among the sought after girls in the pavilion, but she cared not, being supremely contented to sit out on the rocks with Jerry and feel the cool breezes caress her cheeks. Romance and mirth was in the air: just below them Sally Warren was laughing at something Alec Burr was saying and giving him adoring glances; Ned and Lisbeth Jensen, evidently having left their twin sons at home, were strolling along the road with their heads close together; Jem and Faith had spied a flat and departed to the sand-shore; and Jerry was talking to her, the sound of his voice sweeter than any music in the world.

"It'll be great at Redmond this fall, with you, Di and Walt coming to join us too," he was saying.

Nan made some sort of reply, but she was more interested in enjoying the beautiful night with its harmony of stars and glittering sea. Linking her arm through his, she leaned her head on his shoulder and gave a little sigh of happiness, reveling in being so close to him. She often wondered how she could have caught the attention of Jerry Meredith, this intelligent, witty college sophomore who, according to Jem, could have his pick of any girl in Redmond. After all, she was just Nan Blythe, the little girl he had taught how to play checkers and who had romped in Rainbow Valley with him in their childhood!

She knew she could not compare to the brilliant, captivating girls of Redmond – a fact highlighted by Faith's best friend, Grace Claremont, paying the Merediths a visit last summer and agonizing Nan in case Jerry fell for Grace's beguiling charms. It had been a miserable summer, made even more miserable by several sightings of Jerry and Grace roaming over town together on the best of terms. Nan had truly believed that she had lost Jerry forever, until that unbelievable night at the end of the summer when she had started crying in front of him and he had put to rest all her fears, assuring her that he returned her feelings as readily as she gave hers to him.

Nobody at first could believe that Nan Blythe, coquettish flirt and darling of the Glen boys, had fallen in love with a serious-minded young man like Jerry…even more absurd that they should seem happy together! But what nobody – except perhaps Jem and Faith – knew was the deep companionship that Jerry and Nan had had since their Rainbow Valley days, and that Jerry had a fun-loving, playful humour hidden beneath his serious demeanor. Nan had discovered that humour as Jerry had found the deep tenderness and earnestness in the innermost chambers of her heart, and they completed each other in a way nobody else could.

"Like two halves of souls joined to one," Mrs. Blythe had said after she understood the nature of their relationship.

There were the cynics, of course; the Glen's gossip mongers who believed that this was just a passing fancy which Nan would get over soon enough, and the Glen boys who tried to make Nan believe that she would forget Jerry within six months. Nan had a sort of disagreeable consciousness that even Di thought occasionally that she was not serious about the relationship. She could never understand why people marked _her_ out to be the fickle-minded flirt when Faith had had twice as many suitors as she before being involved with Jem, and although Nan would like to ignore those remarks, the truth was that they were beginning to bother her. Gossip did affect Nan very badly – careless and ill-meaning comments depressed her more than any tragedies or direct insults.

She sighed again, only her sigh this time was borne not of happiness but of aggravation. Jerry sensed it and looked at her questioningly. "What shifts your manner so drastically, Nanny Mummy?" he asked half-playfully, using the old childish nickname that they'd bestowed on Nan during their skits in Rainbow Valley when Nan had always acted as the mother.

"I wish people wouldn't talk so," said Nan a little vehemently. "They talk, and talk, and talk, and create so much trouble!"

"Well, they won't create trouble if the person they're talking about doesn't take any notice," said Jerry.

"Yes, but it's easier than it sounds."

"Don't think about that now," Jerry said, giving her a little nudge. "It's not possible to think of anything unpleasant on a night like this! Give me a smile, Nan, and look as sunny as you did when you arrived at the manse."

Nan could never resist anything Jerry asked her to do, and before long she was smiling. "Doesn't the music sound lovely?" she said. "I wish we could dance."

"I wish so too, but nothing doing," said Jerry. "Father's reputation will be forever damaged if anyone sees me on the dance floor."

"I wish people wouldn't think that minister's sons can't dance," said Nan.

"You're doing a fair bit of wishing tonight, aren't you?" Jerry laughed. "Don't look so woebegone, Nan. Go up there and dance ten consecutive sets, if you wish. There's no reason why you should renounce dancing because of me."

"Oh Jerry…you don't think I'm dissatisfied here with you, do you? Because I'm _not._"

Jerry said nothing, only gave her a smile which made her feel like the best-loved woman in the world.

"Do you dance at Redmond parties?" Nan asked a little while later.

"Yes, of course."

"There are girls there, too?" asked Nan anxiously.

"Oh, Nan, you goose," said Jerry amusedly. "Of course there are."

He saw the blood creeping up over Nan's cheeks and hastily squeezed her hand. "We'll both go to a dance at Redmond when the new semester begins," he said comfortingly. "You don't have to renounce dancing at Redmond."

"Thank God for small mercies," Nan said laughingly, but she held his arm more closely. "Would you die for me, Jerry?"

"You sound like a police officer interrogating a suspect, Nanny Mummy! Well, I'll have to consider the circumstances, won't I? _And_ the method of getting killed. I refuse to be drowned. Stabbed to death, maybe, but quick and fast, not multiple times. Painless poison mightn't be bad, I'd consider that. Hanging – no, never hanging."

"Do be serious!"

"I _am _serious."

"But you would, wouldn't you?"

Jerry paused and looked at her. She looked like a little rose in the dusk, with her white skin standing out against the dark brown of her hair. Her eyes were wide and her lips were slightly parted. "Why…" he said finally. "I think I would." And with that, he kissed her.

Nan was to recount that moment endlessly in her head in the years to follow.

An hour later love victuals proved insubstantial for more practical needs, and they went to the lighthouse kitchen to investigate the rumours that supper was laid out and ready to be eaten. There was a little crowd in the kitchen, more than what the huge table could seat, so many of them stood at the doorway or at the windows, joining in the cheerful conversation around the table. Not long after Jerry and Nan arrived, Jem and Faith came in from their tryst on the sand-shore, professing starvation.

Alec Burr and Leslie Baxter obligingly made way for them at the table and almost immediately Jem was at the heart of the party, convulsing everyone with his conversation while they added in their comments. Even Ken, who was on the sill accompanying Rilla, tore his eyes from the pretty young face below him and called out a few remarks that had everyone in stitches. Jem would have stayed on after finishing his meal if he could, but more people were coming in and the seats were needed so, after ensuring that Faith had had her fill of cakes and ices, he gave her a look and escaped out to the open air.

"The way you monopolize parties is disgraceful," Faith scolded as they went down the steps out onto the rocks.

Jem grinned boyishly and slipped an arm around her waist. "But they like it," he protested. "Did you see Ken and Rilla? I'll have to warn him very seriously about this."

"Ken never heeds your warnings."

"Well, he hasn't come near you tonight, has he? So he does heed _certain _warnings."

"Imagine being jealous of Ken Ford," Faith scoffed, but she didn't pull back when he took her hand and led her to sit on a huge, flat slab of rock.

No sooner had they settled down, there was a lull in the music and noise. At first, neither took much notice of it but soon the silence became so oppressive that they looked up, puzzled. It was not normal for a dance to stop right in the middle. A laugh from Lisbeth Jensen died away, as though frightened by the hush.

Then they heard a voice unmistakably belonging to Jack Elliot saying slowly, "England has declared war on Germany. The news came by wire just as I left town."

"Oh, lord," Faith breathed. She met Jem's eyes in one long look, hardly daring to think.

Down below them the Jensens had exclaimed in idle surprise and gone back to their romancing. The over-harbour group stationed on some huge rocks had been silent during the announcement, but had now gone back to their conversation with as much zest as formerly. Nobody seemed to understand the enormity of this message.

Then she saw a huge, vibrant smile break out on Jem's face and knew that he, at least, did comprehend what the message meant to them. "I knew it," he said exultantly.

"England at war means Canada at war," Faith said slowly, a feeling of foreboding rolling over her.

Jem caught her up and did a quick twirl on the rock before pressing a quick kiss on her lips. "I knew it! England wouldn't leave France to rot. Gray didn't patch things up at the last minute. England at war! This is news!" He released Faith and glanced up at the lighthouse. "Would you mind if I left you for a while? This calls for the flag to be hoisted immediately. Cheers for Canada!"

The music started again and once more the crescendo of noise descended down on them. Faith tried to push away the thoughts buzzing about her head. If only Gertrude Oliver was here to offer her views on this! What was she supposed to think about the news? "Of course," she managed to say.

Jem's eyes sparkled as he drew her in for another delighted, victorious kiss, then he let her go and went running lightly over the rocks to the steps, narrowly preventing himself from crashing straight into Una who had materialized out of nowhere. "Oh, Jem," she said, trying to smile, "I'm sorry to trouble you, but if it's all right, can you take me back to the manse? I have a headache."

Jem halted in his celebration to look her over concernedly. "Definitely, you shouldn't stay here if your head is aching," he said obligingly. "Faith is down on the rocks, you can wait there with her, I'll be right back in a moment to take you home." He stayed long enough to watch Una make her way towards Faith, then dashed off calling, "Is Jack still there? Someone grab hold of him for me!"

Una approached Faith and sat down. "I'm so sorry to have to take Jem away," she said apologetically, "but my head is bursting and I don't think I can endure it for much longer."

Faith sat down beside her sister and made an effort to steady her voice. "It doesn't matter, dear. I think I'll go back home with you; I've had enough fun for the night."

"England has declared war on Germany after all," said Una, looking at Faith anxiously. "You did say it might matter to Canada?"

"Don't take my word as proof, Una. I don't know more than the next person."

"I heard Miss Oliver talking it over with Mr. Allan Daly. They were saying that volunteers may be called up to fight in the war since we're in it now – and they were speculating on how long the war might last. Do…do you think it'll last long, Faith? Long enough for our boys to be involved? They can volunteer, can't they?"

"Yes, they can," said Faith, a frown settling on her eyebrows. "Volunteers might be called for any moment. But they don't go straight into war, they have to train for a few months. Who knows whether the war won't be over by then?"

"It seems to me," said Una a little timidly, as though afraid of offering an opinion without any real authority to do so, "that if Germany is bothering to fight Russia, France, and Britain, they're intent on making a long business out of it."

Faith said nothing and they sat quietly for a time, waiting for Jem's return. Seeing that Una's face was very pale and remembering that she never made a fuss unless it was really bad, Faith urged her sister's head onto her shoulder and massaged the side of the head which Una said was aching. She longed for Jem to come back; whatever in the world was taking him so long?

He did arrive eventually, with a huge smile on his face. "All right, I'm finished here. Come along, Una, sorry to have kept you waiting. Faith, are you coming with us or staying here? If you're staying, Jerry's up in the pavilion with Nan and Ken."

"I'll go back with you," said Faith, helping Una to her feet.

"Are you sure? The party's not over yet," Jem said, looking at her keenly while preparing the boat. "You're not sick, are you?"

"No."

He studied her for a moment then, evidently satisfied with the results, smiled widely. "Good. I spoke to Jack and he said they'll be calling for volunteers tomorrow. Britain is certainly working fast, isn't she? Here, Una, easy. Are you quite comfy? We'll have you home in no time. Captain Josiah absolutely refused to hoist the flag till sunrise, but as long as it's hoisted, I don't really care when."

The boat sped over the water and Jem supported Una as they walked back to the manse, talking cheerfully to her, but thankfully not about war. Faith, lingering slightly behind them, ruminated on the possibility of the war lasting longer than any of them thought. Germany was certainly well-prepared – but could it have much of a chance against so many nations? No, surely the war had to be over by or slightly after Christmas! Even if Jem enlisted, he would be in the training camp when the war ended. Too far away to matter – to fight – or to be killed. Faith shivered slightly.

When they finally reached the manse, Una went in first, leaving them on the steps. Jem, who was standing on the lower step, looked up at Faith and the whiteness of her face temporarily blotted out the excitement over the war news. "You don't look too well yourself," he said. "Get a good night's sleep and I'll see you tomorrow."

Faith smiled and cupped his face in her hands, looking lovingly into his hazel eyes. "It's been a wonderful night, Jem. Thank you."

He smiled back and kissed her hand. "Good night, sweetheart."

Faith watched him stroll down the darkened street and closed her eyes, hoping fervently that the morbid sense of foreboding hanging over her was nothing but a result of over-excited nerves.


	6. Answering the Call

**A/N: **Sorry for the late update! I've been editing and re-editing this chapter, to say nothing of some headachy projects that have been taking up way too much time! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

_Chapter 6 – Answering The Call_

"It _can't_ mean anything much to us," said Nan Blythe.

It was the day after the lighthouse dance and the Blythe twins had arrived at the manse early that morning, intent on seeking Faith and Una out to talk over the news of the war. Rilla had been invited to come along, but the young girl's soul was harrowed up with blisters and Mary Vance's unromantic treatment with goose-grease. Her sisters had decided that staying in bed and being patted by Miss Oliver was the best they could do for her.

"Jem's been on the phone to Charlottetown since he woke up," said Di gloomily. "His friend, Jerry Thornton, promised to phone him as soon as volunteers are called for."

"Jerry…our Jerry, I mean…and Ken were talking about it all the way back yesterday night," Nan added, just as gloomily. "Ken thinks that if Jem and Jerry sign up at the first opportunity, they'll have the chance to see some action. And oh, Faith, they're so _excited_ about it!"

"You can't blame them…it's something different," said Faith, but her voice was as doleful as theirs.

Nan plopped down on some plump cushions and Una tried to restrain a cry of horror, for those cushions had been lovingly and carefully embroidered with her best patterns. Fortunately Nan remembered in time that cushions in the manse were very precious affairs and hurriedly fished them out from under her. "Anyhow, it can't mean anything to us," she repeated. "Father says the war will be over in a few months, and why, they will still be in the training camps then. I can't imagine year-long wars happening these days – can you?"

Una shook her head. "Oh no, I can't imagine it. It seems so…_wrong. _Such things shouldn't – couldn't – be happening today."

"Susan thinks so, too," said Nan. "She was talking about it when we left, saying that such uncivilized things did not happen these days and the war will be over before you know it, and that you may tie to."

"Where are Jerry and Carl?" Di asked abruptly.

"He and Carl went off to meet Ken before you came," said Faith. "They've been talking nothing else but war. As we are," she added as an afterthought.

"Mary Vance thinks it's all nonsense," said Nan. "When she brought Rilla over this morning, she laughed off Walter's premonitions and said we'd be better off worrying about the rising price of eggs in Carter Flagg's store than about some rubbishy things happening in those Balkan states. Faith, sometimes I feel that I really cannot endure Mary a minute longer."

"Where did Mary bring Rilla back from?" Una asked, curiosity overpowering her shyness at shifting the topic from war.

Di and Nan exchanged half-amused smiles. "Rilla wasn't on our boat last night," Di said. "We searched for her before going, but couldn't find her, so we thought she'd gone with you. It was our fault for not being thorough enough, I suppose – but it _was_ such a mess last night! Anyway, she had to hike with Mary back to Miss Cornelia's house and blistered her feet because she'd left her shoes in the boat. Mary rubbed goose-grease over her heels but Rilla wasn't supremely grateful."

"Oh!" Una exclaimed. "Poor Rilla. She wasn't too upset?"

"She'll get over it in time," said Nan rather nonchalantly. "Goose-grease sounds terrible to a girl like Rilla with all her romantic flights of fancy, but it does help, and she doesn't feel much pain. Miss Oliver and Susan have been making a pet out of her since she arrived. But back to the war – Lord Kitchener says the war will last three years, and I hardly know whether to believe him or not."

"Three years!" Di said. "The war can't possibly last that long. Why, at most it can only be a few months. The British won't allow Germany to walk over them for three years!"

"Are we so much in the habit of overestimating the British that we overlook the 'foreigners'?" Faith asked with an odd smile.

Nan and Di looked at her. "Why, you can't believe the war will last very long," said Di. "It's just one of those skirmishes that man _must_ go through, or die of the monotony. We're in the 20th century and long-drawn out wars of attrition belong to the past. I'm sure nobody is foolish enough to waste their lives."

"Maybe it isn't attrition," said Faith. "Maybe it's something else altogether; something we must fight against to keep our world in balance."

"Oh, Faith," said Nan a little impatiently, "you sound like Gertrude Oliver!"

Faith laughed, but made no comment.

"I wonder when volunteers will be called for," said Una softly.

She was answered that evening. The Merediths were sitting around the dinner table, eating Rosemary's dessert and listening to Bruce's account of his day in school when the telephone rang. Almost everyone jumped; the result, most possibly, of nerves overwrought with suspense. By then Jem had succeeded in infecting everyone with anticipation of the night's call for volunteers and the entire Glen was waiting with bated breath for the one call that might change their lives.

As Jerry got up to answer it, Una wondered how none of the great philosophers had ever commented on the _spirit _of a phone's ringing. When joyful news was at hand, the phone rang happily; when tragedies were to be announced, the ring seemed ominous; and now, the phone was ringing loudly, urgently, as though demanding to be answered.

She saw the sudden whitening of her stepmother's face as Jerry picked up the phone. Faith's knuckles were white as she held her fork in a deadly grip. Carl was leaning forward in anticipation, his eyes bright. For a moment, nothing seemed to make sense to her; then her head cleared and she began to take in what Jerry was saying. "Thornton, yes, I remember him…so soon? Well, I'm in on this, of course I am!...when? Seven? I'll be there. So long."

Una pressed her cold hands together in agony. It couldn't be real…things like that _didn't_ happen in real life!

"That was Jem on the phone," said Jerry. "They're calling for volunteers in Charlottetown. I'm going in tonight to enlist…if you don't mind, father."

"Oh!" Carl exclaimed. "You lucky chap!"

Mr. Meredith was pale as he struggled valiantly to steady his voice. "No, Jerry…by all means, go."

Rosemary Meredith rose. _Her_ duty was clear, and she was going to do it regardless of how she felt. "You may be detained there for a few days," she said, her eyes resting lovingly on the boy she loved as much as her own son. "I'll pack up a bag for you." With that, she left the room. Jerry followed her out. The rest were left staring at each other dazedly.

Una's throat felt thick. "Father," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "you can't…be letting him go to war…"

Mr. Meredith got up slowly and heavily. "It is the right thing," he said gently, "and we must not stop him."

His daughters watched as he went into his study and closed the door softly behind him.

Bruce tugged at Faith's hand. "What does this mean?" he asked, looking up at her in bewilderment. "Where is Jerry going? Why does everyone look so sad?"

Faith looked at Una. Her eyes were wide with an expression Una couldn't understand; was it anger, fear, shock, or something else altogether? Faith fled the room before Una could say anything.

"To think…Jerry will be going overseas to battle!" Carl shook his head enviously. "And I can't go…talk about tough luck!"

"Oh Carl, don't say that," Una cried. "I wish none of you had to go. I can't understand why you'd want to."

"I can't understand why you'd _not_ want to," Carl rejoined. "It's the most exciting thing in our lives so far, and I want to be a part of it."

"A part of what?" Bruce was sorely puzzled.

"A part of the war, Bruce," Carl explained. "All of us boys aged over eighteen can go."

Una suddenly caught her breath. _All boys aged over eighteen…_why, that included Walter! Was he going too? But Jerry hadn't mentioned Walter at all. Perhaps he wouldn't go – he wasn't fully recovered from the typhoid yet – Dr. Blythe wouldn't let him. But oh, what if he _was_ going? Una slipped out of the dinning room, her heart full of dread. Jem and Jerry were heart-wrenching enough, but the handsome dreamy-eyed boy's going would be unbearable.

She found Jerry and Faith in the living room, Jerry evidently waiting for his baggage before rushing off to meet the seven o' clock train. Faith's cheeks were flushed an unnatural hectic pink and her eyes were shinning queerly. "Did Thornton say how many have joined up already?" she was asking.

"No specific number, just that crowds were enlisting," said Jerry. "What frolic! Nobody's going to miss it for the world."

"I would go, too, if I could," said Faith soberly. "Is Walter going?"

Jerry shook his head. "I don't think he's fit enough to go yet…he and Ken. Poor fellows! They must be kicking themselves in the shins."

Una realised that her heart was, after all, beating. She drew in a quick breath and a faint colour tinged her cheeks, but nobody noticed.

Mrs. Meredith came in with Jerry's bag, and after a few very hazy minutes during which quick hugs and kisses were exchanged, the three women soon found themselves standing at the door watching Jerry striding away. His back was straight, his head upright, his bag slung carelessly over his shoulder. Una turned to look at her sister.

Faith caught the look and returned it. Her eyes were blank. Then, after a moment, she burst out in a low, tremulous voice, "Don't talk to me, Una, I can't bear it!"

Una watched her sister run up the stairs to her room and breathed a silent prayer for the days to come. "Oh Lord, guide us and watch over us. Give us strength when we lack. Amen."


	7. A Bend in the Road

**A/N: **I'm so sorry about the lack of updates recently. This chapter has taken me unbelievably long to write…and it didn't end the way I wanted it to! (nor did it focus on the character I planned it to) I'll now have to devote the next chapter to the scene I meant to put in this one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! To those who have been watching this story since its creation, thank you for 'keeping faith'.

_Chapter 7 – A Bend in the Road_

Jem and Jerry did not come back that night, and the Glen buzzed over the fact that two of its inhabitants would be soldiers soon; but even in the light of such exciting events, life had to go on. The manse ran out of potatoes two days later and Di, who was paying Faith and Nan a visit, offered to run down to Carter Flagg's store and get some.

Faith went with her and the two girls walked slowly down the Glen streets, saying little. Neither knew what was happening in Charlottetown; only once had Jem been able to get through on the phone, and then he and Dr. Blythe had talked for a brief three minutes before he had to go. "They're undergoing medical checks," was all the information Dr. Blythe could give.

Life in the Glen was quickly changing. People who had before never been interested in what went on in the next town, much less in Europe, now pored over the newspapers with a diligence that could put Redmond's finest students to shame. Old women forgot the price of eggs and criticized the Kaiser with all the wisdom of military critics. Plans were underway for a Red Cross, and Dr. Blythe and Mr. Meredith were in talks over organizing a men's Patriotic Society. Old Abner Flagg, who had never taken interest in anyone or anything outside of himself ever since he turned sixty and became rheumatic, was said to be thinking very hard about joining. People were saying that Mrs. Jim Howard was holding back her husband one day from enlisting, then encouraging him to enlist the next.

"Isn't it strange how a few days can make so much difference?" Di observed as they strolled down a longer route, intent on making the most of their walk.

Faith nodded, half-entranced by the beauty around them. The Glen was always very lovely; it was even lovelier today, with enchanting, perfumed breezes kissing the heads of blood red poppies. Just beyond they could see the blue, sun-dappled harbour with its little foamy, white-crested waves. She pictured, for a moment, the grey streets in Charlottetown filled with young men jostling to enlist, then put the image away.

Their route took them near the train station, and as they passed down a small whimsical path towards it, Di suddenly stopped. "Faith, look," she said, stunned.

Faith stopped and looked accordingly. She saw two tall young men making their way towards them, their faces swathed in smiles under khaki caps, and barely recognized these two khaki-clad figures. Then she gasped and dropped her purse in the shock. "Jem! Jerry!"

"Faith, Di," cried Jerry gaily as they came closer. "Don't we look awe-inspiring? How do you like my new threads?"

"When did you arrive?" Di cried almost at the same time. "Why didn't you send any word of your coming?"

"You've been away for two days and they've made you into a soldier?" Faith asked incredulously.

"More or less," Jerry grinned. "We're sorry we didn't send any word, but it was pandemonium over there and we tried the telephone lines six times before we gave up. Feast your eyes on Jem; you're looking at the heart's darling of all the nurses in Charlottetown. The way they flocked to him was scandalous, as Mrs. Alec Davis would say."

Jem raised an eyebrow playfully. "I won't have you telling tales of me," he said. "Where are the two of you headed to?"

"Carter Flagg's store for potatoes," Di said, laughing a little at the practicality of their mission. "I guess both of you had better go back home first; your parents have been worried sick about you."

"You're right," said Jerry. "Much as I would like to accompany you on your quest for potatoes, duty comes first. So long then; we'll meet soon." He grinned again, returned Faith's purse, kissed both their cheeks and went off.

Jem followed his example, but as he kissed Faith's cheek he whispered in her ear, "Meet me at Rainbow Valley tonight." Then the both of them were gone down the road to the Glen, laughing heartily over some joke that only they could understand.

Their return did cause a stir, and when Faith and Di returned to the manse they found Jerry sitting the midst of a crowd of people and relating his Charlottetown experiences. There had been tons of boys over there, all vying to join up, and about a dozen medical checkups that they had to undergo. Beds were simply bunks in an old dingy room, and the pillow, according to him, was as hard as a rock. None of them slept a wink; Jem and some other chap passed the night playing checkers and he played chess with someone else. Then they'd been issued their khaki uniforms and told to go home; when the time came for them to leave for the Valcartier training camp, they would be summoned.

"Did they say you'll get a piece of the fighting?" Ritchie Warren wanted to know.

"We didn't meet anyone who had the authority to tell us that," said Jerry. "But we believe we will!"

Murmurs of appreciation greeted this declaration. "Did you handle any weapons?" asked James Elliot, his eyes wide with interest.

"No, not yet," said Jerry a touch reluctantly. "There were only checkups. But when they call us to Valcartier, we'll definitely learn to handle weapons."

"Valcartier?" Di asked.

"Training camp," Jerry answered. "They're going to make civilians into proper soldiers. We can't go marching off to camp without knowing how to fire a gun or throw a grenade!"

"_Oh_," said Ritchie enviously, and Jerry looked at him sympathetically. Everyone knew that Ritchie would have been on the train bound for Charlottetown with Jem and Jerry if his mother hadn't forbidden him to go. Mrs. Warren had spent that night at Mrs. Alec Davis', discussing vehemently all the reasons on earth why young boys should not be allowed into this madness and why they should stay at home like sensible sons and study so they could enter college the following year. Ritchie hadn't agreed with those sentiments, but Mrs. Warren's word was law in her household and no one dared trifle.

"Just imagine," said Bertie Shakespeare Drew. "A month later you might be firing a rifle and blowing up haystacks!"

"I think that is _adorable_," said Irene Howard, making eyes at Jerry. "And I simply _love _uniforms. Will you be wearing that till they call you up, Jerry?"

"Of course not," laughed Jerry. "But I'll definitely be wearing it when they call me – I don't think I can walk into training camp in civilian clothes!"

"You _lucky _chap," said Ned Jensen with jealousy punctuating every syllable. His wife, Lisbeth, smiled at him, but she didn't look too happy. Few wives wanted their husbands gallivanting – to quote Mrs. Alec Davis – off to war when there were two baby boys at home and a farm to tend.

Mrs. Meredith appeared at the door of the kitchen. "_Faith_," she said, "where are the potatoes?"

"Oh!" Faith jumped up. "I'll put them in the cellar now."

Di followed her into the cellar, her eyebrows creased. "Isn't it awful?" she said with a little shudder. "I can't imagine how they can be so excited about it. Nan was in such a state the night they left – I've never seen her cry so."

Faith settled the sack next to a box of apples before replying. "It's not so bad…yet."

When they went back upstairs, they found Nan there – a Nan of red eyes and pale cheeks, who barely smiled when Faith greeted her. A few of the visitors had drifted off but there was still a good-sized group there, interrogating Jerry and threshing out every detail of the war news.

"The same thing is happening at Ingleside," said Nan when they approached her. "I thought I might find some relief here, but…" she glanced at the eagerly chattering group. "I suppose not."

"Sometimes I wonder whether we're the only ones worried about this," said Di wistfully. "Nobody else seems to be taking the war very seriously. Perhaps we've lived our lives too much in comfort to understand what danger means. Everything has always seemed so far away from us – who would want to touch harmless little Glen? – but now it seems so horribly near and nobody cares."

"Nobody will care until something _really _near happens," said Faith thoughtfully. "But no…" she shook her golden head. "I hope that will never happen."

The visitors stayed until dinnertime, when Mrs. Meredith, with all the graciousness of a minister's wife, invited all of them to stay for the meal. Most of them declined, but the Jensens accepted the invitation gladly. Everyone knew that Lisbeth Jensen often wearied of the endless rounds of household chores she had to do, and always looked forward to any excuse to get away from them.

"I'll stay too, thank you very much," said Nan.

"I won't," said Di. "I should get back to Ingleside. Have a good dinner, folks."

While Jerry and Ned left to lure Carl away from his ants, Lisbeth turned to Nan and Faith. "I can't help hoping that the war will be over soon," she sighed. "I feel so guilty keeping Ned away when I know he wants so badly to enlist – but if he goes, whatever shall I do?"

"For king and country, Lisbeth," said Nan with a humourless smile.

"I think Ned has as much duty to the boys and me as he has to king and country," said Lisbeth defiantly. "Oh, I sound horrible, I know, and I should not say such things, but it's true!"

Dinner was a very cheerful affair despite the girls' relative silence. Ned, Jerry, Carl and Mr. Meredith talked lingeringly and avidly over the war and Jerry's experiences in Charlottetown. Even more anecdotes spilled out – how this boy had misread his chart and cried all night thinking he would surely be rejected and how that chap wrote down the time for his check wrongly and undressed himself two hours early. Even though Faith listened and laughed at the funny parts, Nan longed for the meal to end. She had a sudden, crazy urge – so crazy that she wondered at her own sanity – to take Jerry and keep him away, out of sight, where neither the world nor the war could take him away.

She watched as Jerry's eyes lit up whenever he laughed, watched the careless grace in which he handled his utensils while he chatted gaily to them, watched the way a lock of dark hair would fall over his eyes whenever he moved his head to the left…loved every gesture, every movement, with such an aching tenderness that she thought she would surely go mad if the meal didn't end soon. She wasn't like Faith; couldn't be like Faith – the way Faith laughed and talked was positively inhuman.

Finally…thank God…it was over. Ned and Lisbeth were getting to their feet, thanking the Merediths for their hospitality. Faith was looking at the clock. Carl was examining a new beetle he'd kept secreted in his pocket the entire meal. Una was preparing to clear away the dishes. Nan caught Jerry's eye in a bid for his attention. "Do you have time?" she mouthed.

She wanted so much for him to say yes. To nod, smile, bring her away someplace where no eyes could look at them. Ease some of the fears in her heart; assure her that nothing serious would ever come out of going away to train for a war.

But he shook his head. Gave her a smile, but not the type she wanted. "I have to talk to my father," he mouthed back.

Of course he would want to talk to his father, especially on a night like this; Mr. Meredith's eyes had been on his eldest son's face all evening and Nan knew only too well how much the Merediths adored their father. No matter how much they loved others, their first priority was their father.

Still, she couldn't help feeling a certain sort of bitterness overtaking her. "I'll be going now," she said shortly, glaring at Jerry, wanting to invoke some sort of reaction from him, before realizing that she had rudely interrupted Lisbeth in the middle of a sentence.

"I'll walk part of the way with you," said Faith, looking at Nan with perhaps more understanding than the latter would have liked.

"It's been a very enjoyable evening," said Lisbeth. "Thank you all again."

"Good night, dear," said Mrs. Meredith. "Come as frequently as you can."

As she walked out of the manse with Faith and the Jensens, Nan couldn't help but notice how Lisbeth's hand curled over Ned's arm, unconsciously and lovingly, and wondered, with a little pang, whether she and Jerry would ever reach that level of intimacy.


	8. Love and Life

**A/N: **Ah well, I hate to apologize again since I seem to be doing it in every chapter, but please do accept my apologies again for this very, very late update. LMM got pushed to the sidelines for a long time. But the love is back, and so is this story!

_Chapter 8 – Love and Life_

"Isn't it awful?" said Faith the moment she and Nan parted with the Jensens. She accompanied her remark with a little shiver.

Nan looked half-curiously at her friend. "You, too?"

"Of course, me, too." Faith flicked a curl over her shoulder and sighed, creasing her brows in what was a very uncharacteristic expression for laughing, joyous Faith Meredith. "I tried ever so hard during dinner to…not to mope, but it was so difficult…at times I wanted to scream."

Nan let herself smile a little. "You tried very well."

"Oh, Nan." Faith stared at the path before them, ghostly white in the moonlight. "Where will all this lead to? I used to love thinking about the future…and now I'm just scared."

"I'm scared, too," Nan said softly. "Not only of the war…but that Jerry will be lost to me forever if he goes."

The last few words were uttered so softly that they were barely distinguishable, but Faith heard them, and paused in her steps. "Nan Blythe, _whatever _do you mean?"

Nan paused as well, her face flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean anything…don't mind it, Faith."

"Of course I do mind it," said Faith, almost indignantly. "You _mustn't _think like that. The boys will be _ours, _no matter what happens. And Jerry's feelings for you will never change."

The two girls shared a long gaze, Faith's golden-brown eyes flashing as of yore, Nan's brown eyes returning with the meekness of penitence.

"I'm a goose," Nan said at last. "A silly, stupid goose. I understand."

"You aren't a goose," said Faith, then she smiled, sadly. "Or perhaps all of us are. Let's walk."

They accordingly walked on in a companionable silence, neither willing to say anything, as though the sound of a single word would shatter the fragile peace that now hung over them. How beautiful, Faith thought, the old Glen was in the night; how beautiful it had always been and would always be, no matter what cruel games mankind might play in other parts of the world! So there was that comfort, at least, in knowing that there was one place on earth that had retained its exquisite beauty through the ages…that one could always come home to this place and find it unchanged.

Three years later, during the darkest period of her life when Faith had reached the end of her tether, the memory of that night, resplendent with the beauty of the Glen, would keep her from the breaking point.

"Well, good night," said Nan, when they came upon Rainbow Valley. "I don't want to think anymore unhappy thoughts. I suppose…there will be more than enough room for them later."

Faith reached out and hugged Nan briefly. "We will be strong, regardless of whatevr comes our way…won't we?"

"We will," Nan said, then added, almost whimsically, "But with periods of weakness in between."

Faith allowed herself to laugh, and the two girls went their separate ways – Nan back to Ingleside where she was to spend yet another half-sleepless night, and Faith onward to Rainbow Valley. As the latter walked down the enchanted Rainbow Valley paths fringed with tiny, alluring flowers, her heartbeat began to quicken, as it always did whenever she was about to meet Jem. Till today, she was frequently haunted with a sense of amazement at how much love she had in her to give him. Ever since the hot summer's day in Redmond when he had finally revealed his feelings for her, a dam in her heart seemed to have lifted and her love for him flowed forth, purer and deeper than anything she'd ever known before.

The romance between Jem and Faith was something that had set both the Glen and Redmond's tongues wagging for the longest time. Initially good chums with no idea of being anything more, their proximity in Redmond had fostered a closeness between them that quickly grew to intimacy. Jem, president of the student body and one of the most popular Redmond elites, liked nothing better than to spend a quiet evening with Faith in her boarding house, either talking languidly about everything and anything that came to his head, or sitting beside her with his arms thrown back behind his head as she studied. Somehow, the golden-brown eyes and dimpled smiles of his childhood playmate seemed far more beautiful than all the other Redmond socialites put together, and somewhere along the way…Jem could never pinpoint the moment…he decided that he wanted to court his best friend openly.

As Faith strolled along, she mused on the heady days of their early romance…how very dear Jem had suddenly grown…how she had watched out for his comings and goings, how his face and voice had appeared in her mind during random moments at work or leisure, how contented they had been merely to take walks or drives around Redmond. How Jem had told her that he would make her learn to care for him in the way that he cared for her, little dreaming that she had long since given over her heart to him…

She came upon him quite suddenly. He was kneeling down by a bush, peering underneath it, presumably at some rare treasure in the earth. As always, a strange instinct in him had responded to nature. She didn't know anyone else who shared such an affinity with all living things, who had so much love for life of all kinds.

Faith paused to take in the scene; nostalgia overwhelmed her so much that for a few moments she couldn't speak.

Jem seemed to have sensed her presence, for he turned his head and saw her. "You're here," he said and, with a smile, got up.

Faith responded with a brilliant smile of her own as she came forward and took the hands he was holding out. "Do you know, you were kneeling down like that before this very bush the first time I realized that I loved you?"

Jem looked surprised. "When was that?"

"During my first year in Redmond…the Christmas holidays," she said.

"During the Christmas holi…Faith Meredith, do you mean to tell me that you were in love with me for so long and yet never breathed a word of it to me?"

"How can an insignificant girl like me tell a popular chap that she's in love with him?" Faith said defensively.

"You couldn't be insignificant if you tried," Jem said. "How very selfish of you…I don't suppose you realized that if you had told me then and there, we would have had one more year together."

"No, I must confess that didn't occur to me."

"Well," said Jem, sitting her down beside him on the grass, "tell me all the sordid details."

Faith laughed a little as she snuggled close to him and laid her head on his chest. That was a favourite position of hers, where she could feel Jem's heartbeat against her cheek – quickening whenever she reminded him verbally of her love, and slow in other times, when they were simply enjoying being together as the best friends and lovers in the world.

"I came in from a walk to the shore," she said. "I was in a bluesy mood…just one of those days when it seemed as though God wasn't in his heaven and nothing was right with the world. And then I walked in here and saw you…kneeling down like that…and you were looking at the violets that had just gone to sleep in winter's frost."

"I think I'm beginning to remember," Jem said. "Go on."

Faith swatted him lightly. "You'd better," she said. "It was an extremely important moment in my life."

"I will certainly remember it from now on," he assured.

"Well, I don't know what happened then…something worked. When you got up and turned around to smile at me, I was just numb with the shock. And the first thing you said was, 'Why, Faith! Is our very own Canadian goddess out on one of her night sprees again?' I felt it then."

She felt his arm tighten about her and looked up at him. He glanced down at her, eyes full of infinite tenderness. "I remember it clearly now," he said. "You were wearing a green wrap, and your hair was down…I was thinking that you were the dearest girl the world ever had."

Faith closed her eyes and leaned back on his chest again. If only, she thought, if only this moment could be frozen in time…

"Do you think I could be that to you, Faith?" Jem asked.

"Hmm?" she murmured, loath to spoil the sacred silence with words.

"The dearest fellow in the world?"

Faith smiled, eyes still closed. "Right now I think you're tied with father for that."

"Well, I would like to remain so…for the rest of your life," he said. "Do you think I could?"

His heartbeat was accelerating. Faith lifted her head and looked directly into his eyes. He returned her gaze, an unmistakable question in his eyes.

"Jem Blythe, is this a proposal?" she asked, teasingly.

"Well…" he said. "Yes."

"You'll have to ask me in slightly more elaborate terms than that."

Jem cleared his throat and drew himself back so that the two of them were facing each other. "Faith Meredith," he said. Faith nodded and straightened herself. "I love you more than anyone but yourself can possibly imagine. If I ask you to walk down this weary, cumbersome path of life with me, stay with me through all my most foolish and embarrassing moments, and grow in failing health and misery together, will you be willing?"

The playfulness in Faith's face had vanished; her eyes were glowing softly with the love that Jem knew was reflected in his own. It took her a while to find her voice, and when she did, it was through tremendous effort that it did not tremble. "I'm willing," she said, "but you got one thing wrong, Jem. We may fail in health and grow miserable and foolish, but if we're together, life will _never _be weary or cumbersome."

Their eyes held; a mute promise that would last for life passed between them; and Jem was first to look away, but only because tears were brimming in his eyes and he'd no wish to cry during one of the most beautiful moments of his life.

"Thank you," was all he trusted himself to say.

Most people would probably keep the memories of their proposal as treasures, revisiting them time and again in the future to relive the sensation of joy during that brief period; but for Jem, that night was fraught with a special significance and emotional meaning that he did not fully comprehend and could not possibly convey.

All he knew was that, while lying in the trenches during rainy nights when the Huns' shelling would not cease, through those gloriously captured moments he would hold on a little longer.


	9. The Last Days

_Chapter 9 – The Last Days_

And so time passed, in a flurry of Red Cross activities, countless visitors who encroached on Ingleside and the manse with curiosity and well-meaning wishes, and the stentorian voice of Norman Douglas heard all over town, usually booming on about the Germans' incompetence.

"You can be sure that those Huns will be licked in a matter of months," he bellowed in Carter Flagg's store. "Throw in more chaps like Jem Blythe and Jerry Meredith and gad, I wouldn't bet a penny on the Huns surviving till Christmas! I'm telling you, Ellen," in an aside to his wife, who stood beside him with her eyes on the ceiling, "don't you tell me that those Huns with their cocked up mustaches and big guns can touch a single one of our Islander boys, eh, Flagg?"

Nobody could stop him whenever he was in any of his tirades, and Carter Flagg had confessed to Mr. Meredith in church the previous day that he was quickly going deaf from the decibels that Norman constantly released in his store.

"I'm going mad, I swear, Reverend," he said, a complete expression of defeat on his face. "Now, I like the man, but if he continues shouting away at the top of his voice in my store, I shall be hard of hearing very soon."

The saintly minister had assured him that keeping a listening ear open to any brethren who wished to speak was the best thing that any Christian could do, but Carter Flagg hadn't looked convinced.

Orders had come in soon after the boys' return from Charlottetown, dictating that Jem and Jerry were to leave in a week's time for Valcartier training camp in Quebec. Upon hearing the news, Four Winds turned itself inside out in lavishing dinner invitations and all sorts of unnecessary gifts on their two soldiers. Mrs. Leo Elliot has constructed a banner saying 'Good luck, Jem and Jerry' and put it across her front lawn to the initial scandal of the Glen – now, many households were following suit and putting up banners with similarly encouraging words. Mrs. Michael Crawford from over-harbour had sent over a large encyclopedia of European history to Jem, saying that it would be beneficial when he went sight-seeing. Jem and Jerry had hooted long and loud over it – and 'The Encyclopedia' was now a standing joke between the two of them.

"These last days before Jem and Jerry sail for Quebec will probably never be relived again," Di wrote in her journal four days after the orders arrived. "I should enshrine them in this journal before everyone forgets them – then again, I don't think anyone will. Has a bigger thing ever exploded across the Glen? Suddenly, the doors of Four Winds have been thrown open to the world, and mass dispatches-reading sessions take place in all the households every morning. The names 'Tennenberg', 'Samsonov' and 'Hoffman', which, a month ago, would have incited the mildest of mild interest among the men, are now dropped casually from the mouths of housewives at the marketplace. Mrs. Leander Crawford, in particular, prides herself on being an expert in reading maps and predicting military moves. Mrs. Leander Crawford, who once cried because Faith publicly spoke up in church!

"We're seeing everything through new eyes, realizing that, no matter how secluded we were in the past, we're now tied to the rest of the people in other lands through an irrevocable bond called _war_…the most heartbreaking thing on earth. And yet, underneath it all, I suspect that many of us are enjoying this.

"Susan has tucked 'The Encyclopedia' into the garret for now. 'There it will stay, until it has any use to us,' she said. May Mrs. Crawford never know what has become of that monstrous book! What _do _people think, I wonder? Perhaps their enthusiasm have been fanned by the fact that Jem and Jerry do so dazzle all the old and young ladies alike in their khaki. Even Mrs. Sophia Crawford is smitten by the image of Jem in his uniform, though she'll die rather than admit it.

"Masses of gifts are bestowed on Ingleside every day, and mother is almost at a loss about what to do with all of them. Paperweights, ties, pens, even a pair of shoes personally given by a very demure Irene Howard…how we do dislike her!...Carter Flagg is indeed doing brisk business.

" 'However can Rilla be so infatuated with Irene?" I said the day Irene brought the shoes over and spent half an hour trying to flirt with Jem, who fended her off on every attempt.

" 'Who can understand fifteen?' Nan said tolerantly. 'We were fools at fifteen, too.'

"Now that I think of it…we _were! _Crying into our pillows at night if some boy or other hadn't walked us home from school that day, trying to avoid studying as much as possible, sneaking down to the kitchen to steal some of Susan's cookies and getting heartily scolded by her – oh, ignorant, foolish, wonderful, untainted fifteen! It will never come back to us again.

"Lately, Nan has been having bad bouts of insomnia. I hear her walking the floor every night, up and down, in an endless refrain. Mary Vance called to report that Mrs. Alec Davis said she didn't think Nan would make it through the war – 'she has been looking so peaked lately' – and I was so furious I just slammed the phone down. We don't need comments of that sort! But mother _is _very worried about her, and I only wish that Nan didn't take this half as badly as she is…

"Father is keeping a close eye on her and I think he will administer a dose if she doesn't sleep tonight. Just yesterday, during dinner, when we were talking about Jem's imminent leave for Valcartier, she burst out, 'There isn't enough time…there isn't enough…' and rushed from the room.

"Jem's attitude towards Faith has changed very much. They were always good to each other, but in public, anyone who didn't know them personally would have thought that they were simply chums. All that is different now – nobody could possibly mistake them for anything but lovers. He always holds her close whenever they're together, and he doesn't venture out much without her – it's bittersweet, seeing their devotion and knowing that they'll be parted so soon. We suspect that they're finally engaged, but neither of them has anything to say on that matter, so we leave it be. Walter seems to have accepted it, but sometimes I see a look in his eyes that makes me so incredibly sad…

"During times like these, I can almost be glad that I don't have anyone special to worry about – and yet…perhaps…but no, I won't write it down. Women, as Miss Cornelia declares, _must _be decent or nothing good will ever come out of the world.

"Ken came to visit us one evening when the Merediths were over. He'll be leaving for Toronto a few days after Jem and Jerry go – and then what _should _we do with ourselves? Poor Ken was rather bewildered when he first stepped in – ever since word came from the Red Cross headquarters that sheets and bandages are needed, Ingleside has practically been awash in cotton, sheets, needles and thread. Even Faith has forced herself to learn sewing – she always managed to worm out of it before.

" 'Our fair ladies are contributing much more to the war effort than we currently are,' Jem said as Nan tried to clear a seat for him.

" 'You could always help in the sewing,' said Jerry blandly.

" 'So I would, if Nan would let me near a needle. She says she doesn't need my help.'

" 'The last time you mended Faith's socks in Redmond, Mrs. Meredith said they looked as though they had been darned by cavemen,' Nan reminded him. 'Nobody would want your brand of sheets, Jem.'

"Jem just laughed. He and Jerry are in supremely good spirits nowadays – they take almost everything as a joke, and their favourite subject is 'potting Huns!' Ken was all too eager to indulge them in that and they were off, talking about Tennenberg. Halfway through, Walter got up and walked out…I don't think they even noticed him. I hardly know what is going on with Walter now – he's in his own world most of the time, usually dark and brooding, and I know he feels so badly over all this. He doesn't go about with Jem and Jerry like Carl does, and he never talks about the war if he can help it.

"Eventually the three boys got to talking about Jem and Jerry's enlistment, and it was rather painful sitting there stitching and listening to them threshing out all the details.

" 'Have you and Jerry been posted to the same battalion?' Ken asked.

" 'We don't know,' said Jerry, 'but it would be bit of a bother if we weren't, now, wouldn't it?'

" 'Rather,' said Jem. 'He would be lost without me.'

" 'I'd be lost _with _you,' Jerry retorted. 'Remember, _I'm _the map reader here.'

"Ken suggested terming their going as 'The Great Adventure' – he longs to go with them, too, and he _would_, if not for his ankle – but Faith severely vetoed that idea. She was the only one who kept up with their conversation – Nan and I gave up after a spell, and Una didn't say a word throughout.

"Sometimes I wonder whether we're going through all this worry needlessly. After all, everyone except Kitchener of Khartoum says that the war will be over by Christmas, and if that's so, Jem and Jerry won't get anywhere near it. Oh, how I hope that will be the case, and Kitchener is wrong!

"Walter, Nan and I leave for Redmond the coming semester. I remember how Jerry used to talk about it all the time, saying how fun it would be for six of us to be together in Kingsport, but now…there will only be four of us, including Faith. There will be a shortage of boys in college if the amount of young men enlisting is any proof to go by. It seems strange to be entering college under such circumstances – so vastly different from what Nan and I envisioned before.

"Speaking of differences…we never did manage to go on that boating trip. Somehow, I feel that it will never happen. It seems as though many years have passed since we sat together and planned that trip. War had really been the last thing on our minds then – just vacation, and the loveliness of being young and carefree – and yet, it hasn't been many years, nor even weeks…simply long days when too many things have happened. War has entered our realm of peace and tarnished it. The world, as we know it, will never be same again."

Di put down her pen and looked out of the window. She could see Jem and Jerry strolling down the lane to Ingleside – the two of them were scarcely ever apart now, preferring to receive all the accolades and adoration together. Even in identical uniforms, their differences were so very clear – Jem, his cap set at a jaunty angle, walking as though the world held for him some personal, hidden joy; Jerry, a step slower and more deliberate, every inch the image of a romanticized intelligence officer.

In them, she saw Canada's heartbeat; the young men who came forward in droves in answer to their country's call, willing to fight and lay down their lives for their homeland. How many would lie beneath white crosses before the war was over?

In the kitchen downstairs, Anne Blythe was saying to Susan, "Only two more days before they go, Susan. My little baby of the House of Dreams…and Mr. Meredith's firstborn son. If this war is recorded in history, will anybody ever care that a little village in P.E.I loved and sent two of its boys?"

"Nobody may ever care, Mrs. Dr. dear," said Susan staunchly, "but _we_ shall always care for them, bless their souls."


	10. A Night To Remember

_Chapter 10 – When The Waiting Begins_

The last night came, as generally all last nights do. It was a humid, red night that foretold coming rain…quite appropriate, Di thought. Dinner at Ingleside had been a cheerless affair, despite Mrs. Blythe's valiant attempts to liven the atmosphere. Even a strange sort of melancholy seemed to have descended on Jem, for he barely spoke throughout the meal. Once it was over, he sought his mother's permission and left for the manse, leaving the family to deal with their suffering as much as possible during his absence.

Dr. and Mrs. Blythe sat quietly in the living room with Mrs. Blythe's head on her husband's shoulder. Anne did not say much, but her thoughts were on that sun-warmed morning when Little Jem had first alighted on the shores of life. How wonderful that day had been, when she had looked into her baby's eyes and realized that he was hers to keep! The other children had been blessings, but Jem had been a miracle that assuaged the pain of losing Joy and reinstated her belief that God had meant her, after all, to be a mother. Was the baby she had cooed and cuddled and tucked to sleep now to fight on the bloody battlefields in France? And yet…it was his right to go.

Nan betook herself to her room, where she locked the door and spent the night at her window, looking in the direction of the manse and murmuring prayers that she herself could not hear. Earlier that day, Jerry had clasped her hand after one of their philosophical arguments and said, with a note of affection in his voice, "Who will I have in Quebec to argue over Thackeray with me? You'll always be the only one, Nan Blythe."

At any other time, that would have filled her with indescribable delight. Now, she could only crouch by the window and pray…pray, as she had never prayed before…for God to spare one so beloved.

Walter was not praying – he had not prayed since the day that orders for Jem and Jerry's leaving had come in; a fact that would have horrified Susan greatly if she had known it. He was in the lawn, lying on the hammock and thinking of the time when he and Jem had laid in bed and practiced saying long words together. What was that word that Jem had used to scare Fred Elliot so long ago? What was it? Oh yes…'transubstantiationalist'. How it had scandalized the Glen when they heard of that exploit! Walter laughed a little…then shivered.

"Perhaps someone has just walked over my grave," he said to the sky, where the heavy, purple-tinged clouds had obscured the friendly light from the stars.

Di was not much given to shivering. With Di, action was the way of relieving emotions – not praying nor brooding. Sitting in her armchair knitting socks for the barefooted children from the fishing village at the harbour mouth was the best way she could cope with any sort of stress. It helped to take her mind off tomorrow; but she knew that there would be little sleep tonight.

Jem came back an hour later with a rose in his pocket that would eventually become his greatest treasure during the war. He found Ingleside in much the same state as the manse; silent, with half the lights turned off, yet nobody asleep. His parents were still sitting in the living room in much the same attitude as when he left.

"I have said goodbye to her properly, mother," he said, sitting down opposite them. "I can face tomorrow now."

Mrs. Blythe smiled a little, understandingly.

"Jem," said Dr. Blythe. He paused as something in his throat choked him momentarily. "Know this – your mother and I could not be prouder of you for going. Remember that we are behind you every step of the way."

"I understand, dad."

"I have never fought in a war before, but…" Gilbert paused again, as though seeking help from a higher power for something wise to say to his firstborn son who would be leaving him so soon. Jem was looking at him intently. "Trust in God and your comrades. Never let anyone down. Perform your duties to the best of your ability and get the job done. That will be more than enough."

Jem nodded almost imperceptibly. Mrs. Blythe held out her hand, and he reached out to take hold of it.

"We'll love and support you regardless of whatever happens, sweetheart," she said, her eyes fondling his face. "Do the best you can…we'll be holding the fort back home."

"You always have, mother dearwums," said Jem, using the old term of endearment. "You too, dad. I've always – always – been grateful that I have the both of you as parents. Nobody could have any better."

"Thank you, Jem," said Dr. Blythe. "That means very much to us."

It has been a wonderful life so far, Jem reflected. Born in the House of Dreams that had, for so many years, been sanctified by love; growing up in a home like Ingleside, where laughter and mirth had surrounded him throughout his entire childhood; meeting kindred spirits like the Merediths in Rainbow Valley; distinguishing himself at Redmond, and finally falling for Faith, the most passionately loving girl he knew…how blessings and joy had marked every step of his life till now! He had a sudden doubt…would the war taint this perfect record of happiness and love?

But even if it did…Jem smiled at his parents. There would always be Ingleside, and this pair of people…a place on earth for him to come home to.

Jerry was thinking much along the same lines as he sat at his window, looking at the slight drizzle that had finally descended from the clouds. He could hear somebody pacing restlessly up and down in one of the lit rooms. Perhaps it was his stepmother; Rosemary often paced the floor whenever she was in great turmoil of mind. His father, he knew, was downstairs in the study, preferring solitude on this last night.

"'Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love'," he quoted softly to himself. How true it was…all the excitement leading to this night had faded, and left in its wake the distinct realization of how much he loved his family and the Glen. He thought of Una's dark, wistful blue eyes – Carl's laughing voice and bright face which was so rarely creased by frowns or unhappiness – Bruce as a fat, dimpled baby worshipped by all at the manse – and Faith…Faith, who was peeping in at the door.

She smiled as he met her gaze. "Can I come in?" she asked.

"Do," he said.

She slipped across the room and laid her head on his lap. "My room was full of unfriendly spooks, so I rushed over to see if I could disturb you. I can't help thinking about tomorrow…you'll take care of yourself, won't you?"

"I'll try my best," he replied. "You must, too…and remind Grace of it, when you go to Redmond. She must be having a hard time of it, what with Toby going away and all."

"Grace is so strong," Faith said. "I'm dying to see her again…but the thought of Redmond…it'll be great having Walt and the twins along, but…it seems to me that I won't get over missing the two of you."

Jerry reached out with his foot and nudged her toes. "Hey, we mayn't be gone for long. Nobody knows when this war will end."

"I hope you're right," she said soberly.

There was a silence during which the drizzle became a downpour. The wind increased in notches and became a wild, howling force that beat against the window. How miserable it sounded! Surely someone had died a terrible death tonight. Faith was not prone to wild flights of imagination, but even she shivered.

"We _have_ grown up, haven't we?" she said, to break the silence.

"Yes, we have," said Jerry seriously. "And I think you've turned out the best of all four of us, Red Rose."

He stroked her hair affectionately as she smiled up at him, loving him with her eyes. "Faith, you'll take care of father and mother while I'm away, won't you? Father is far more vulnerable than he makes himself out to be…and you know how mother tends to worry about us. Una is too timid and Carl is too…too _boy._" The both of them laughed at that expression. "So really," resumed Jerry, "you're the only one who can take over caring for them."

"I will," Faith said, "but you'll come back _soon._"

"As soon as ever I can," he returned. "You won't get rid of me for too long, I assure you!"

Faith laughed again, knowing that Jerry liked the sound of her laughter. He'd told her before that it seemed to him one of the things that made up the word 'home'.

Outside, the wind mourned on unabated, and Jerry remembered this as the night in which he bade a mute farewell to all that he loved and knew at home before venturing forth into an unfamiliar world.

The morning dawned, grey and uninviting. After an intolerable breakfast, Jerry gathered up his 'loot' and the Merediths proceeded from the manse. The Glen was filled with people all heading to the train station, and a cheer arose as the manse family walked past them.

"Go get 'em, boy!" Norman Douglas shouted, waving his whip in the air.

"Have fun, you lucky chap," Ned Jensen called. "Looking forward to letters."

"Doesn't he look glorious in his uniform?" Ethel Reese sighed to an unsympathetic Betty Mead, then turned her gaze to the Blythes, who were coming down from Ingleside.

The Merediths paused to wait for them. Faith's eyes searched the little group for Jem – ah, there he was, with Dog Monday at his heels, and laughing over something Rilla was saying to him. He did look magnificent in his uniform – it was no wonder that so many people had such romanticized views of soldiers. Mrs. Blythe was walking alongside him, hardly seeming to take her eyes off his face. Susan brought up the rear with an extremely painful smile etched on.

"Faith," said Nan, stopping before her. They clasped hands. Nan was smiling valiantly, but there was a look in her eyes that was sadder than any tears would have been.

They walked together to the station, which was teeming full of people who crowded around Jem and Jerry the moment they entered. Nan gripped Faith's hand and pulled her away to the fringe of the crowd, where they stood observing the scene.

"Faith, this is so hard," Nan said in a low voice. "What if I cry?"

"You won't cry," said Faith with a steadfast conviction. "You have too much spunk to cry."

That tender moment was soon broken by plenty of well-wishers who came up and hugged them to show that they cared, little knowing the torture that they were inflicting.

"So now that they'll be gone, how are you going to cope at Redmond?" demanded Kate Drew of Faith.

"I don't understand how you can endure it," whined Mrs. Jim Howard. "I live in fear everyday that my Jim will enlist."

Irene Howard gushed over Jem and Jerry in the most exasperatingly sweet manner, and with more than her usual sprinkling of italics. "They look _so _handsome. The two of you must be _so _proud of them. Oh, I'm not saying that you really _want_ them to go, it must be terrible thinking that they'll be in _so much danger,_ why, they could even be _killed!_ But you two seem to be taking it quite well. I'm sure they are _just_ as proud of you for being so brave. Isn't it _thrilling _to have soldiers for sweethearts?"

"I hope you'll never find out," said Nan shortly. Faith thought she would have smacked that silly, simpering face if, much to their gratitude, Irene had not had the gumption to leave soon after that. But others kept coming.

"Don't worry, nothing will happen to you even if something happens to them," said Jen Vickers.

"The war'll be over before they can get near it," said Miller Douglas, evidently repeating what Mary Vance had said in order to stop him from enlisting.

"I'm glad _my _beau is not in khaki," said Sissy Flagg, who had carried a torch for Jem for eight years, and never quite got over her resentment that he had not chosen her.

"Just sit tight and wait for the news," advised Miss Cornelia.

It was like being pelted by bullets from all directions. Faith began to wish desperately that she had not come. What _did _she come for, anyhow? She had already said her own goodbyes to the boys. Even if she was there simply to provide the tears, there were plenty of others who were more than willing to do so – like Ethel Reese, who was all dressed up and crying for goodness knows who. If she was so affected over Jem and Jerry going, how many tears would she have left when…_if…_one of the Reese boys went? Stupid girl!

Through the haze of thoughts, she heard everyone crying, "The train is coming! The train is coming!"

"Oh," Nan cried. She hurried forward, pushing her way through the throngs of people, and Faith had enough time to see Jerry putting his arms around Nan before her vision was obscured by Jem's face. She looked up at him, momentarily speechless.

Jem took her hands in his. "You look beautiful," he said, looking at her as if committing to memory that image of her, pale and holding her head high with a sort of queenly dignity, in a pink dress that gave her the colour she lacked just then. He lifted their linked hands and laid his lips on them for a moment.

Her eyes, now devoid of any sadness or bitterness, now held the ageless look of love as they looked at each other. That look said everything that could not be said at that minute, with people cheering and the train chuffing and the conductor yelling. In that teeming, crowded, chaotic station, they shared a private, eloquent moment that was more intimate than any embrace. "Wait for me," he said.

"I'll be right here waiting for you when you get back," she said.

Jem smiled. "I love you, Faith Meredith," he said, before tilting her chin up and kissing her in front of all those eyes looking at them. "Very, very much."

And then he was gone. Jerry speedily took his place with a tight hug and a whispered "Take care of yourself, darling" in her ear, but she vaguely comprehended it. The men were cheering away…the conductor was shouting, "All aboard!"…the two mothers were gripping each other's hands…Jem and Jerry were on the train, waving…she barely understood the wave…why were they waving?...Nan was still smiling, as one would smile after discovering that everything had been lost in an earthquake…and then the train was off, chuffing down the line as it headed towards the bend…the children were running after it, and she would, too, only she couldn't move…she caught one last glimpse of a face, hazel eyes shinning, red curls beneath the khaki cap…and then they vanished round the bend.

"Gone," her mind whispered to her, as she stood on that platform, looking at the empty train tracks. The waiting had begun. Over the next few years, she, together with everyone in the Glen, would be standing there without rest, watching the tracks – watching, watching, watching – for the trains that took so long in coming back.


End file.
